
























































































' 


































.* 
























,0 o 






,0o 



■^ 













<\j 
















































OLIVER CROMWELL 



J. T. HEADLEY'S WORKS. 


New Edition. 




Washington and His Generals. 




Two vols., with steel plate portraits, . 


$2.50 


Napoleon and His Marshals. 




Two vols., with steel plate portraits, . 


2.50 


The Imperial Guard. 




One vol., with steel plate portraits, 


!- 2 5 


Oliver Cromwell. 




One vol., with steel plate portraits, 


1.25 


*^* Price per set, uniform binding, in a box, 


7.5o 


The Sacred Mountains. 


One vol., illustrated, .... 


2.00 


The Adirondacks. 




One vol., with maps. .... 


2.00 





W (^ 




THE LIFE / 



OF 



OLIVER CROMWELL 



% 



BY 



J. T. HEADLEY 




NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1888 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by 

BAKER AND SCRIBNER 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York 



Copyright, 1888, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



J< 12 19W 



PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY, 
NEW YORK. 



TO 

REV. J. 0. CHOULES, D.D. 

AS ONE WHO HAS DONE MORE THAN ANY OTHER TO SPREAD IN 

OUR COUNTRY RIGHT VIEWS OF THE CHARACTER OF 

CROMWELL AND THE PURITANS, AND AS A TOKEN OF 

HIGH PERSONAL ESTEEM AND REGARD, THIS 

WORK IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Some may think that Carry le's " Letters and Speeches 
of Cromwell " render a life of him unnecessary, while, in 
fact, that work was the only cause of my writing this. 
A multitude of biographies have been written of Crom- 
well, but not one based on the general view taken by 
Carlyle. The letters and speeches of a man can never 
constitute his biography, though they may give us a 
correct and complete idea of his character. The letters 
and speeches of Washington, and his life, are two very 
different works. In the first place, the narrative is 
broken up by the introduction of letters and documents 
on various subjects, that must be placed in chronological 
order. In the second place, events are mere links, by 
which these are connected ; while in biography, they 
are the writer's chief concern. In one case, the writings 
of a man form the burden of a book ; in the other, his 
actions. The compiler of the former cannot condense, 
while it is the chief business of the historian of the lat- 
ter to do so. Carlyle should, doubtless, have written 
the life of Cromwell, and it was generally expected of 



Vlll INTRODUCTION. 

liim ; but he declined doing it, saying, that he left that 
work to others. 

The second motive that prompted me to the under- 
taking, was, that no American had ever yet given the 
world a biography of this wonderful man. Writers, un- 
der almost every monarchical government of Europe, 
have maligned him, and it seems strange that the only 
pure republic in the world — a republic, too, based on 
his views, and traceable to his efforts, should hitherto 
have allowed the character of its first founder to be por- 
trayed alone by enemies both to him and to liberty. 
Puritanism and republicanism have always been, in Eng- 
land, synonymous with hypocrisy and rebellion, and 
hence, her writers can find scarcely a redeemable trait 
in Cromwell's character. But we regard them in a very 
different light — indeed, are the only people whose insti- 
tutions are grounded in them ; and yet, we permit the 
very man who established both, to be insulted and tra- 
duced, without saying a word in his defence. It is high 
time republican movements in Europe had other histo- 
rians besides the subjects of monarchical governments. 
But for Cromwell's efforts and success, it is very doubt- 
ful whether the Puritans on this side of the water would 
have ventured on a contest with the mother country — at 
all events, the great questions of constitutional and per- 
sonal liberty, which he settled, have been the foundation 
of every revolution for the emancipation of man, which 
has since taken place. That as an American, I should 



INTRODUCTION. IX 

wish to defend the founder of the first true common- 
wealth, and expose the slanders that have been heaped 
upon him, is most natural. 

I have endeavored to give, in connection with his 
life, a condensed history of the English revolution, from 
its commencement to its close. I could have written 
two volumes more easily than one ; for the labor of con- 
densing has been greater than a freer and more natural 
narrative would have been. The English biographies 
are taken up too much with minor events, for readers 
this side of the water ; and are interesting solely to 
Englishmen. I have attempted to give the leading and 
striking features, and at the same time make clear and 
plain every step of the revolutionary movement. It was 
impossible, of course, in such a work, to go into a 
minute history of the civil government, or of religious 
sects — these questions belonging to the historian rather 
than to the biographer. 

That there is room enough for difference of opinion 
respecting historical facts, I am well aware ; for there 
probably never was a period about which writers dis- 
agree so entirely. Authority for almost any statement, 
however ridiculous, can be found. Amid the endless 
contradictions, therefore, which met me at every step, I 
was compelled to use my own judgment ; this, I need not 
say, has ever leaned toward Cromwell, and against those 
who had every motive to traduce him, and every tempta- 
tion to be prejudiced. I mention this, that those who 



X INTRODUCTION. 

have studied the subject less, may not be surprised to 
find many of my statements rebutted by very good testi- 
mony. As no two English authorities agree, it is not to 
be expected that I can agree with all. 

I have had no religious creed to establish in this 
work ; and, hence, have avoided discussing the claims 
of Puritanism and Episcopacy. I regard the struggle 
as one of civil and religious liberty, and not a contest 
about creeds. 

In quoting from letters, I have invariably extracted 
from Carlyle's collection, because he has modernized the 
spelling and pointing, and thus made them more intelli- 
gible. I have not referred as often or as particularly 
to authority, as I might have done, since there are so 
many different editions of many of the works, that it 
would only confuse the reader. Thurloe's State Papers, 
Rushworth, Whitelocke, Clarendon, Vaughan, Godwin, 
Dugdale, Guizot, both his Revolution and Memoirs, Per- 
fect Politician, Mrs. Hutchinson, Oliver Cromwell's Me- 
moirs, Forster's Statesmen of the Commonwealth, Hume, 
D'Aubigne, Southey, Disraeli's Life of Charles I., Neal's 
History of Puritans, and many other works have been 
consulted, in writing this biography. Mr. Herbert has 
helped me by his knowledge of the battlefields. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 



frferest of the Subject. Birth and Family of Cromwell — His 
Genealogy — Early Life — Enters Cambridge — His Marriage- 
Settles down on a Farm for Ten Years — His Conversion — Hy 
pochondria — Chosen Member of Parliament. Synopsis of 
Events that Preceded His Appearance in Public — Causes of 
the English Revolution — Charles I. Ascends the Throne — As- 
sembling of Parliament, 1625 — Discussion of Grievances — Dis- 
solution and Sudden Re-assembling of Parliament — Impeach- 
ment of Buckingham — Dissolution of Parliament — Tyranny of 
Charles— Parliament of 1628, to which Cromwell Is Elected — 
Petition of Rights — Animated Discussion in Parliament — Its 
Dissolution. Cromwell Returns to His Farm — Murder of 
Buckingham — His Character — Despotism of Charles — Re-as- 
ssembling of Parliament, 1629 — Speech of Cromwell — Dissolu- 
tion of Parliament, and Increased Tyranny of the King — Perse- 
cution of the Puritans — Laud — Trial of Strafford — The Puritans 
— Trial of Hampden — Laud's Attempts to Force His Reformed 
Liturgy on the Scotch — Effects — Cromwell in the Fens — Letter 
to his Cousin — His Return to Parliament — Character at the 
Time - .... ... 



CHAPTER II. 

FROM THE LONG PARLIAMENT TO THE FIRST CIVIL WAR, 1640—164? 

Bhort Parliament — Second Invasion of Scotland — Meeting of the 
Long Parliament. — Its Stern Aspect — Impeachment of Laud — 
Trial and Death of Strafford — His Character — Personal Ap- 
pearance of Cromwell— Appointed on a Private Committee — 
Defends the Poor — The King Visits Scotland — Grand Petition 
and Remonstrance— Stormy Debate upon It — Cromwed's View 
of It — Withdrawal of the Bishops — Their Impeachment — At- 
tempt to Seize the Five Members — Excitement Caused by It — 
The King Leaves Whitehall never to Return except as a 
Prisoner — Recapitulation — Cromwell a Patriot ... 33 



Xll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE FIRST CIVIL WAR — FROM 1642 TO THE CAMPAIGN OF 1644. 

Activity of Cromwell — Preparations for War — The King Erects 
His Standard — Battle of Edgehill — Cromwell's Opinion of It — 
Resolves to Raise His Ironsides — Their Character — Fight at 
Brentford — Enthusiasm of the Citizens of London — Cromwell 
Takes Croyland, Lowestoff, Stamford and Burleigh House — 
Fight at Grantham — Fight at Gainsborough — Death of Hamp- 
den — His last Hours and Burial — His Character — The Aid of 
Scotland Sought — Mob of Women in London — Battle of New- 
bury — Cromwell Governor of Ely — Ratification of the Cove- 
nant — Winceby Fight — Religious Character of the Revolution - 52 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE EXTRAORDINARY CAMPAIGN OF 1644. 

Execution of Laud and Others — Character of Laud — Defeat of 
the Irish Regiments by Fairfax — The Scotch Enter England — 
Cromwell Joins them before York — The King Defeats Waller — 
Rupert Enters York — Battle of Marston Moor — Cromwell's 
Ironsides — Cromwell's Letter — Essex Defeated, and his Army 
Compelled to Surrender — Success of Montrose in Scotland — 
Second Battle of Newbury — Cromwell Accuses Manchester in 
Parliament— Is Accused in Turn — Self-denying Ordinance — 
The Remodeling of the Army — Its Character - 84 

CHAPTER V. 

CAMPAIGN OF 1645 TO THE SPRINC OF 1646. 

3romwell e Commission Extended— Affair ^»f Islip Bridge— 
Eletuhington House, Witney — Bampton Bush — The Main 
Army in Motion — Cromwell Sent to Camb'-idge — Recalled and 
Joins Fairfax — Battle of Naseby — Cromwell's Letters to the 
House of Commons — Cromwell Relieves Leicester — Takes 
Bridgewater and Puts Goring to Flight — Disperses the Club- 
men — Storming of Bristol — Cromwell takes Devizes, Berkley 
Castle and Winchester — Storm and Sacking of Basing House- 
Cromwell Defeats Lord Wentworth — Joins Fairfax and Takes 
Dartmouth — Defeats Lord Hopton — Movements of the King, 
meanwhile — Defeat of Lord' A stley — Negotiations again Opened 
with Parliament — The King Flies to the Scottish Camp - J II 



CONTENTS. Xlll 

CHAPTER VI. 

BETWEEN THE CIVIL WARS FROM THE SPRING OF 1646, TO THAT OF 1648 

Struggle between the Presbyterians and Independents — Negotia- 
tions with the King — Bargain of Parliament with Scotland — 
The King Given up — The Presbyterians Resolve to Overthrow 
Cromwell, and the Independents — Successful Plot of Cromwell 
to Carry off the King — The Army Refuses to Disband, and Re- 
monstrates with Parliament — Marches on London — Consterna- 
tion of the People — Expulsion of the Eleven Members, and 
Occupation of London by the Troops — Triumph of the Inde- 
pendents — New Character of the Revolution — Slanderers of 
Cromwell — Interview of the King with his Children — Noble 
Attempt of Cromwell to Induce the King to Accept the Throne 
under Restrictions which should Secure the Liberties of the 
People — Denounced by the Army for It — Discovers the Treach- 
ery of the King — His Flight — Mutiny in the Army — Quelled by 
Cromwell — Treaty of the King with the Scotch — Anger of the 
Parliament, which Resolves to Settle the Nation without Him — 
Cromwell Consults the Leaders as to the Form of Government 
to be Adopted — Commencement of the Insurrection — Mob in 
London — Presbyterians again Obtain the Ascendency, and 
Cromwell Departs for Wales — His Previous Sickness — His 
Son Richard Contracts a Marriage — Prayer-meeting in the 
Army 143 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE SECOND CIVIL WAR. 1648. 

Cromwell Marches to Subdue the Insurrection in Wales — Invests 
Pembroke Castle — Fairfax Drives the Insurgents into Colches- 
ter — Lambert sent North to Retard the Scotch— Cromwell 
Reduces Pembroke, and Starts Northward — His Unparalleled 
March — Joins Lambert — Battle of Preston — Enters Edinburgh 
— Proceedings in Parliament — Attempt to Make a New Treaty 
with the King, and Destroy Cromwell and the Independents- 
Stormy Debate in Parliament — Army Marches on London- 
Pride's Purge — Return of Cromwell — Course of the Independ 
ents Defended 199 



CHAPTER VIII. 

TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF THE KINO. 

The King Brought from Hurst Castle to Windsor — His Impeach 
ment — Creation of the High Court of Justice to Try Him— 



X 1V CONTENTS. 

Westminster Hall during the Trial — Address of President 
Bradshaw — Interruption of the Court by Downs — Conduct of 
Cromwell — Sentence of the King — His Agitation, and Efforts 
to be Heard — Interview with His Children — Attempts to save 
Charles — Conduct of Cromwell in signing the Death-Warrant — 
The King's Execution — Cromwell's Soliloquy over the Corpse 
* — Defence of Him against His Biographers — Ireton Chief 
Actor — Defence of Parliament — Character of the King - 234 



CHAPTER IX. 

CAMPAIGN IN IRELAND FROM 1649 TO MAY, 1650. 

Establishment of a Republic — Milton Chosen Secretary of the 
Executive Council — The Levellers — Cromwell Appointed to 
Command the Expedition to Ireland — Insurrection Quelled 
by Him — Pomp and Splendor of His Departure — Marriage of 
His Son Richard — Arrives at Dublin — Cruelties of the Trish — 
Storming and Massacre of Drogheda — Of Wexford — History of 
His Movements — Recalled to Resist the Scotch Invasion — 
Character of the Campaign — Defence of Cromwell — Final Set- 
tlement of Ireland 261 

CHAPTER X. 

INVASION OF SCOTLAND. 1650 1651. 

Cromwell Lands in England — His Reception — Accepts Command 
of the Army Destined for Scotland — Charles II. — His Base 
Conduct — Cromwell Marches North — Enters Scotland — Strives 
in Vain to Provoke Lesley to Give Battle — Lambert Wounded 
— Movements Around Edinburgh — Battle of Dunbar — Crom- 
well Invests Edinburgh Castle — Marches to Glasgow — Inter- 
views with a Scotch Minister — Outflanks the Scotch at Stirling, 
and Compels them to Evacuate the Place — The Scotch Invade 
England — Pursued by Cromwell — Battle of Worcester — Re- 
view of Cromwell's Career - 303 



CHAPTER XL 

from the battle of worcester to the protectorate— 1651 
to 1653. 

Cromwell Moves that Parliament Fix a Day for its Dissolution — 
The Rump Parliament — Cromwell's Course Defended — Death 
of Ireton — Malice of Cromwell's Biographers — Navigation Act 
— War with the Dutch — Victories of Blake — Attempt of Par- 



CONTENTS. XV 

liament to Crush the Army and Cromwell — Treachei-y of 
Members — Dispersion of Parliament by Cromwell and His 
Musketeers — Defence of the Measure — Barebones Parliament 
— Its Extraordinary Character — Dissolves Itself — The Dutch 
Sue for Peace — Cromwell Proclaimed Lord Protector - 34S 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE PROTECTORATE. 

From December, 1653, to the Second Protectorate Parliament, 
September, 1657 — Ordinances Issued by Cromwell — Henry 
Cromwell goes to Ireland — Character of the New Government 
— Peace Abroad — Respect Shown to the Protector — Sycophancy 
of Dr. South — Assembling of Parliament — Its Unjustifiable and 
Dangerous Proceedings — Noble Address of Cromwell — Sub- 
mission of Parliament — Its Acts — Cromwell Thrown from His 
Carriage — Death of His Mother — The West Indian Expedi- 
tion — Dissolution of Parliament — Cromwell's Arbitrary Course 
— The Major-Generals — Persecution of the Vaudois, and Noble 
Interference of Cromwell — Milton — Cromwell Champion of 
Protestantism — Assembling of the New Parliament - - 376 



CHAPTER XIII. 

FROM THE SECOND PROTECTORATE PARLIAMENT TO THE DEATH OP 
CROMWELL, SEPT., 1656, TO SEPT., 1658. 

Opening of Parliament — Members Rejected — Naylor and the 
Quakers — Victory of Blake and Montague — Sindercombe Con- 
spiracy — Narrow Escape of Cromwell — Petition and Advice — 
Cromwell Offered the Crown — Conferences on the Subject — 
Finally Rejects It — Statements of His Enemies — Conspiracies 
— Marriage of His Two Daughters — Re-assembling of Parlia- 
ment — Refuses to Acknowledge the New House Provided for 
in " Petitions and Advice" — Cromwell's Speech — The Madness 
of Parliament Encourages Conspirators — Dissolved by Crom- 
well — His New Life-Guard — Family Afflictions — His Last 
Sickness and Death — His Character 401 



OLIVER CROMWELL 



CHAPTER I. 

Interest of the Subject. Birth and Family of Cromwell — His Geneal- 
ogy — Early Life — Enters Cambridge — His Marriage — Settles down 
on a Farm for Ten Years — His Conversion — Hypochondria — Cho 
sen Member of Parliament. Synopsis of Events that Preceded 
His Appearance in Public — Causes of the English Revolution — 
Charles I. Ascends the Throne — Assembling of Parliament, 1625 
— Discussion of Grievances — Dissolution and Sudden Re-assem- 
bling of Parliament — Impeachment of Buckingham — Dissolution 
of Parliament — Tyranny of Charles — Parliament of 1G2S, to Which 
Cromwell is Elected — Petition of Rights — Animated Discussion in 
Parliament — Its Dissolution. Cromwell Returns to His Farm — 
Murder of Buckingham — His Character — Despotism of Charles — 
Re-assembling of Parliament, 1629 — Speech of Cromwell — Disso- 
lution of Parliament, and Increased Tyranny of the King — Perse- 
cution of the Puritans — Laud — Trial of Strafford — The Puritans — 
Trial of Hampden — Laud's Attempts to Force His Reformed Liturgy 
on the Scotch — Effects — Cromwell in the Fens — Letter to His 
Cousin — His Return to Parliament — Character at the Time 

Nothing possesses deeper interest to the thoughtful 
man, than the history of a struggle between an oppressed 
people and their powerful rulers. All that is great and 
noble in our nature, is called into action, and we 
then witness the lofty patriotism, free offering of one's 
self, life, and fortunes on a common altar, and lhat 
inspired courage which make us wonder at our jace. 
Especially do we love to trace the progress of one all 
1 



OLIVER CROMWELL. 



powerful intellect, making his steady way through the 
chaos or anarchy that surrounds him — gradually mould- 
ing and wielding the raging elements, until at length 
he presents in himself the product of the struggle, and 
holds in his hands the hopes of a trusting people. So 
a) so the strong and excited workings of the human mind 
— its bewildered and conflicting views, as old forms and 
institutions are breaking to pieces, and new ones rising 
in their places, cannot be witnessed without the liveliest 
sympathy. 

Perhaps of all revolutions, none except our own pos- 
sess stronger claims to the attention of Americans, than 
the one in which Cromwell bore so distinguished a part. 
The noble principles which lay at the bottom of it — the 
conscience, as well as enthusiasm, which bore it on, and 
more than all, the direct influence it had upon our own 
— indeed, being the parent of it, and thus of the revo- 
lutions which have since followed in Europe — place it 
before all others. Great constitutional rights were then 
for the first time settled, and the human mind put on the 
right track to recover the only liberty worth having. In 
such a cause, the valorous deeds of Puritan freemen, 
and the bloody battle field itself, can be contemplated 
without horror, and pondered on with other feelings than 
those of admiration for courageous and daring men. 

Of all heroes Cromwell possesses the most problemati- 
cal character. A mystery shrouds him and will shroud 
him to the end of time. This results from two causes — 
first, from the doubts and uncertainty, which the contrast 
between his words, letters, and speeches, and the ac« 



1599.] HIS GENEALOGY. 3 

counts we have always regarded as history, is calculated 
to produce; and secondly, from the strange religious en- 
thusiasm which mastered him, and rendered him an 
enigma even to his most intimate friends. 

Oliver Cromwell was born at Huntingdon, in St. 
John's Parish, on the 25th of April, 1599. His father, 
Robert Cromwell, was the youngest son of Sir Henry 
Cromwell, knight, who lived in the style of a noble in the 
mansion of Hinchinbrook, near Huntingdon, and grand- 
son of the famous Richard Cromwell, knighted by Henry 
VIII., for his prowess in the field.* His mother was 
daughter of William Steward, a wealthy man, whose son 
was also a knight. Her first husband, William Lynne, 
Esquire, lived but a year after their marriage, and was 
buried with his only child in Ely Cathedral. Robert 
Cromwell married the widow, by whom he had ten 

* On May day, 1540, a brilliant tournament at Westminster opens 
its lists before us, in which Richard Cromwell, and others, had pro- 
claimed themselves to France, Flanders, and Scotland, the defenders 
of the honor and rights of their English King. Henry VIII. looks on, 
and when Sir Richard Cromwell has struck down challenger after 
challenger, with undaunted arm, forth from his deep broad chest, rolla 
out the royal laugh of Henry. " Formerly thou wast my Dick, but 
hereafter thou shalt be my diamond." Then from the finger of majesty 
drops a diamond ring, which Sir Richard picks up, * * * and such a 
ring did Oliver Cromwellwear, when he left his farm at Ely, to bear 
more formidable arms at the challenge of a king. (Vide Forster's 
Statesmen of the Commonwealth of England. — Ed. by Rev. Dr. Choules, 
page 393. It is also asserted that Oliver was related to The mas Crom- 
well, Earl of Essex, minister of Henry VIII., and called " Malic u$ 
Monaclwrum ," a mauler of monasteries. 



4 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

children — Oliver, afterwards Protector, being the fifth 
There were but three sons in all, of whom Henry lived 
to be only twenty years of age, while Robert survived 
his birth but a few months. Thus, of this large family, 
Oliver became the only male representative. 

From this succinct account, it will be seen that Oliver 
was no base born man. His grandfather and uncle, on 
his father's side, were both knights, while an uncle on 
the mother's side, had also the same rank. Other aunts 
and uncles in that region were wealthy and honorable, 
and he was connected, more or less remotely with several 
distinguished families. Bred among gentlemen, and edu- 
cated as the son of a gentleman, he was far from being 
the rude, uncouth person nis enemies represent him to 
have been.* 

His father's estate lay along the banks of the Ouse, 
and yielded an income of some $1500, American cur- 
rency — a sum in those times, equal to treble that amount 
now. The estate and mansion of Hinchinbrook, are at 
present the seat of the Earl of Sandwich. 

But whether Oliver Cromwell was the son of a king 
or a carpenter, matters but little, for he made himself a 
place and acquired a title, far superior to those of any 
monarch who has succeeded him on the English throne. 
Of his boyhood but little is known — uncertain tradition 
relates some incidents which may or may not be true.f 

* Milton says in his prose works, " Est Oliverius Cromwellus genere 
nobili atque illustri ortus : nomen republica olim sub regibus bene 
administrala clarum, religione sirnul orthodoxa vel restituta turn pri- 
mum apud nos vel stabilita clarius." 

t These incidents are some of them curious — one asserts that the 



1617.] EARLY DISSIPAT ON. 5 

The standing of his uncle at Hinchin brook may be 
inferred from the fact that King James, when on his way 
from Scotland to assume the crown of England, stopped 
two nights with him, and was entertained in the most 
sumptuous manner, much to the injury of the old knight's 
purse. 

When seventeen years of age he was entered, April 23, 
at Sidney Sussex College, the same day on which Shak- 
speare died. The next year, 1617, he lost both his father 
and his grandfather on the mother's side. These sad 
events cut short his education at Cambridge, and he re- 
turned to his father's house to take possession of the 
estate, of which he was now heir. There is a tradition 
that he went soon after to London to study law ; and 
while there, lived a wild and dissipated life. Notwith- 
standing the denial of Oliver Cromwell, a descendant of 
the family, and of Mr. Carlyle, there is good evidence for 
believing this to be true. Cotemporaries speak of it as a 
thing well known, and among them Richard Baxter. 

devil presided at his birth, and left his figure on the hangings of the 
curtains around his bed. Another, that a monkey once carried him on 
the roof of the house, and brought him down again safely, to the no 
little consternation of the family. Once he was saved from drowning 
by a curate, who afterwards repented the act. At another time, he flog- 
ged the little Duke of York, afterwards Charles I. But more strange 
than all, he saw in his boyhood, once, a spectre in the shape of a wo- 
man, who slowly withdrawing the curtains from his bed toid him 
that he was to be the greatest man in England. It is laughable to see 
how much is made out of his school -boy declamations, and to read the 
account of his smearing his friends with dirt on a certain occasion, told 
in the most serious manner. His robbery of birds' nests and orchards 
rests on the same foundation with all the other anecdotes — mcr3 gossip 



6 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Nor should this seem strange, in one of his wild inde- 
pendent character, and strong passions. The period ol 
dissipation, however, was of short duration ; for as he 
settled down into manhood, these faults and errors were 
thrown aside. If he was in London the year after his 
return from college, he doubtless witnessed the execution 
of Sir Walter Raleigh — a scene that furnished him food 
for reflection. 

In 1620, then twenty-one years of age, he was mai- 
ried, in London, to Elizabeth Bourchier, daughter of Sir 
James Bourchier, Knight. Returning home with his 
wife, he settled down as a staid farmer ; and for nearly 
ten years disappears from history. In the changeless 
routine of an agricultural life he, doubtless, passed his 
days. The next year after his marriage a son was born 
to him, named Robert ; but how long he lived, and what 
became of him, is unknown. Two years from this time 
a second son, Oliver, was born, of whose future history 
we are also left in the dark. This much only can be 
ascertained, that he drew his sword in battle beside his 
father, and fell almost on the threshold of that great 
contest. 

During this period of ten years, Cromwell doubtless 
became converted to Christianity. Nothing certain is 
known ; but vague rumors have come down to us of his 
being hypochondriacal and filled with superstitious no- 
tions — sending for his physician at midnight, and having 
strange fancies about the town cross. Ill health may 
have produced these fantasies ; but, doubtless, the most 
correct solution will be found in the agitated state of his 



1628.] ELECTED TO IARIIAMENT. 7 

mind respecting religious truths. We have often oeheld 
m imagination, this young and solemn farmer walking 
gloomily beside the Ouse, pondering on that dread eter- 
nity to which he was hastening, and feeding the enthu- 
siasm which afterwards carried him triumphantly over 
so many battle fields. The history of these four years 
would throw a flood of light on his after career. 

The doctrines of the Puritans had already taken deep 
hold of the public mind, and Cromwell, among others, 
suffered under strong convictions of sin. At what time 
he came out from this "blackness of darkness," is not 
known ; but when he appears again on the surface of 
history we find him a strong Calvinist and thorough 
reformer ; and his house becomes a great resort for non- 
conformists and all who are persecuted by the estab- 
lished church. 

Among those of elevated rank and worth, adopting 
the same views, were John Hampden, Pym, Lord Brook, 
Lord Say, Lord Montague, and others. 

In 1627 Hinchinbrook passed out of the Cromwell 
family, being bought by the Montagues for £3000. 
Old Sir Oliver Cromwell retired on some land still left 
him of his once fine estate, and his seat in parliament 
became vacant. Young Oliver, his nephew, however, 
was soon after returned member from Huntingdon, and 
took his seat March 17, 1627-8. This was the third 
parliament of Charles; and that great movement, which 
was to convulse England and overturn her throne, had 
already begun. What Cromwell thought of the collision 
between the king and his parliament, or what part he 



8 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

took in the divisions between the Puritan* and the estab- 
lished church, can be inferred only from his after 
career. 

Having now brought Cromwell on the stage of public 
life, we must go back a little and describe the events 
that had been transpiring while this unknown youth, on 
whose life hung such momentous results, was ripening 
into manhood. The same sun which looked down on 
his boyish sports, and afterwards on his quiet pursuits, be- 
held also the gathering of elements which were to con- 
vulse the realm. The English revolution was not a 
sudden outbreak — a mere gust of passion — but a steady 
growth. It is difficult to date its commencement ; for 
liberty usually keeps pace with civilization, and civi- 
lization is gradual in its progress. The accession of 
the Tudors, however, may be named as the point where 
the great changes commenced ; for with them began the 
humiliation of the barons, who alone served as checks to 
arbitrary power. In England and on the Continent, 
these rich feudal lords, with their numerous retainers, 
stood between the king and his subjects, and for a long 
time were the only defenders of liberty. But under the 
strong hand of Henry VIIL, and, afterwards, the skilful 
policy of Elizabeth, they were completely crushed, and 
kingly power for a while left untrammeled. Henry 
VII. modified the feudal laws so that the nobility could 
dispose of their fiefs, the sales of which, and also of the 
rich domains of the church, afterwards given them by 
Herry VIIL, caused a large transfer of property from 
the higher nobility to the wealthy commoners. Eliza- 



CAUSES OF THE REVOLUTION. \3 

beth, to avoid asking subsidies, which were repugnant 
to her people, disposed also of a large extent of crown 
lands, that were bought up by rich traders and thrifty 
farmers. But in a commercial country the transfer of 
wealth is the transfer of power, and so it proved in 
England. The common people, in becoming land- 
holders, rose in their own importance, and saw at once 
the necessity of securing guaranties to the wealth they 
had acquired. Something more than the word of a 
king was needed to protect them from rapacious power. 
The rights of property naturally grew out of its pos- 
session, but to maintain those rights would encroach 
on the royal prerogative, and did; and here is the grand 
source of the struggle between Charles and his parliament. 
The cause of it can be reduced to the simplest ele- 
ments. The higher nobility, becoming impoverished 
through their extravagance, sold large portions of their 
estates to the lower orders; Queen Elizabeth did the 
same thing with the crown lands, to meet state expenses, 
and thus so enriched them that the House of Commons 
at length became three times as wealthy as the House ot 
Lords. Trade and commerce helped to swell this vast 
amount of wealth, which in turn naturally asked for 
guaranties and securities — in short, to be placed under 
well defined and just laws. The king not only refused 
to be trammeled by such restrictions, but would not 
submit to the encroachment on his power the demand 
for them made. Hence, he and the commons came in 
collision, and, as neither would yield, a ruplure was 
1* 



10 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

inevitable, which kept widening till the throne and king 
sunk in the gulf. 

The Reformation, however, should not be overlooked 
in estimating the causes which produced the English 
revolution. Henry VIII. was not aw T are, when in his 
pride he renounced all allegiance to the Pope of Rome, 
that he was teaching his people to brook no tyranny of 
opinion, from whatever source it came. Reforms must 
advance or retrograde ; hence the people of England had 
no sooner dared to reject the authority of the Roman 
pontiff, than they began to question that of the king, in 
religious matters. After renouncing the forms and 
ceremonies of the papal church, it was only taking 
another step to renounce those of the English church. 
The first departure is always the most difficult. But 
civil and religious rights were closely united; indeed, 
they were inseparable ; and hence the maintenance oi 
one involved that of the other. The king and the 
bishops could not enforce the laws of the church without 
the aid of civil power; and the non-comformists soon 
began to question the legitimacy and origin of that 
power which would coerce them in matters of con- 
science. 

Thus, while the parliament, standing on the broad 
basis of constitutional freedom, confronted the king, 
the people everywhere were discussing the doctrine of 
personal liberty. Although the great struggle com- 
menced in parliament, it is very doubtful whether the 
latter would have triumphed, if it had not been for this 
religious element, which thus entered into it, and event- 



1025.] CHARLES ASCENDS THE THRONE. 11 

ually absorbed all the rest. Great questions of state 
became lost in those of conscience ; and what was begun 
in defence of the worldly interests of the wealthy, ended 
in the open avowal and maintenance of the religious 
rights and liberty of the meanest peasant in the land. 

While everything was tending to this result, Charles 
L came to the throne. Of a handsome face and person, 
and possessing a kind heart, he had all the requisites of 
a popular king. The daughter of the king of Spain was 
selected as his bride by his father ; but insisting on going 
himself to woo her, he obstinately refused to fulfil his 
father's wishes, and returned without her. When the 
news reached England, bonfires and illuminations, kin- 
dled in every part of the land, attested the joy of the 
people, who had not yet forgotten the persecutions of 
Mary ; and hence looked with dread on a catholic queen. 
He, however, mended matters but little when he soon 
after married Henrietta, daughter of the king of France, 
and a Bourbon. 

No king ever ascended the throne under apparently 
more favorable auspices than Charles. The people 
were kindly disposed towards him, and he towards them, 
and mutual confidence and good will promised to render 
/lis reign both peaceful and happy. But. he unfor- 
tunately had imbibed the principles of government 
carried out by Spain and other despotic governments of 
Europe. Like England these had subdued the proud 
barons who so long held the sovereigns in check, till the 
throne had become supreme and its will law. But the 
Reformation had made a different people of the Chris- 



12 OLIVER CROMWELL 

tian inhabitants of England — a people that w ould in nc 
way tolerate the system of absolute monarchy. Charles, 
therefore, labored under a great mistake, when he ascend- 
ed the British throne. Designing to reign kindly and 
well, he never dreamed that his subjects would distrust 
his word or require guaranties of his good behavior. 

THE FIRST PARLIAMENT. 

He seemed in hapte to assemble parliament in order 
to express his kind intentions — and when it met, 1625, 
he addressed it in terms of confidence and respect. 
But such a parliament probably never before assem- 
bled in England. Among the members were found 
Sir Edward Coke, Francis Seymour, Dudley Digges, 
John Elliot, Wentworth, Selden, Pym, and others ; men 
of large capacity and unrivalled patriotism. Viewing 
with alarm the unbounded powe r of the crown, and fore- 
seeing the disasters that would befall their country un- 
less it could be brought within constitutional limits, they 
determined, at the outset, to take advantage of the king's 
want of money to force him to a recognition of their 
rights. England, at the time, w r as at war with Spain, 
and Charles was embarrassed for want of funds to carry 
it on. This the parliament knew, and so, instead oi 
voting him the usual supplies, granted only the custom 
duties for a year — amounting to £112,000. This, no 
doubt, was mere mockery, so far as furnishing adequate 
supplies was concerned, but it answered the purpose for 
which it was intended, viz., to show the king and court 



1626] SECOND PARLIAMENT. 13 

that the commons of England had assembled to man.e, a 
contract, not obey orders. Certain grievances were to 
be redressed, and certain rights acknowledged, before 
they would release the monarch from the financial diffi- 
culties that surrounded him. Past and future subsidies 
came under its cognizance, the state of religion, the 
repression of popery, and the protection of commerce — ■ 
in short, it reached every department of government.. 
The House of Lords refused to sanction the vote of the 
house granting only the custom duties for a year, but 
the latter would go no further until grievances were 
redressed. The king, indignant at this attempt, as he 
termed it, to compel him to act, thus encroaching on 
his sovereignty, dissolved the parliament, determined to 
govern without it. 

Succeeding but poorly, however, in his efforts to 
raise money, he in February again assembled it. 

THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. 

The first parliament asked for redress of grievances, 
the second immediately impeached the Duke of Bucking- 
ham, the king's favorite, as the author of them. Charles 
had taken measures to make this parliament more tract- 
able, by keeping out of it the most popular orators, such 
as Coke, Pym, Wentworth, Seymour, and others. The 
Earl of Bristol, also, a personal enemy of Buckingham, 
received no summons to attend. He complaining of 
this neglect to the peers, the king sent the summons, 
but with it an order to remain on his estates. The 



14 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

resolute earl again appealed to the House of Lords, hint- 
ing that the liberty of all its members was involved in 
the tyranny practised on him. For this the king im- 
peached him of high treason; but the earl, nothing 
daunted, impeached the Duke of Buckingham in turn. 
The king had sagacity enough to discover that this 
double impeachment, coming both from a peer of the 
realm and from the representatives of the people, was 
aimed as much against him as his favorite. Looking 
upon it, therefore, rot only as an encroachment on his 
power but an insult to himself, he addressed a remon- 
strance to the House of Commons, and at the same time 
forbade the judges, to whom the House of Peers had 
submitted certain legal questions touching the case of 
the earl, to answer. 

The judges obeyed, but the commons immediately 
appointed eight of its members as commissioners to sup- 
port the impeachment. A conference was held with 
the House of Lords, but as soon as it was over, two 01 
the principal commissioners were sent to the tower for 
insolence of speech. The commons, indignant at this 
act of tyranny, refused to do anything till the commis- 
sioners were set at liberty. Threats, remonstrances, 
and promises were alike powerless, and the king was 
compelled to yield. Defeated and baffled on every side, 
and hearing that the commons were preparing a general 
remonstrance, he summarily dissolved this parliament 
also. Lord Arundel, whom he had been compelled to 
set at liberty, was again, at the request of the House oi 



1628.] THIRD PARLIAMENT. 15 

Lords, put under arrest, the Earl of Bristol sent to the 
tower, and Buckingham released. 

Determined to be an absolute sovereign, like the other 
monarchs of Europe, he could not see the spirit that 
was abroad, and therefore rushed blindly on his own ruin. 
A general loan was ordered, the sea-ports and maritime 
districts commanded to furnish vessels (the first attempt 
at ship money), passive obedience was preached by the 
direction of the king ; those who refused to grant the 
money were thrown into prison ; the military were dis- 
tributed over the kingdom ; the courts of justice over- 
awed, and Charles I. seemed resolved to carry his doc- 
trine of tyranny by one grand coup de main. But he 
only awakened deeper indignation and hostility, and 
nursed the fire he expected to quench. 

In the meantime defeat attended the armies abroad — ■ 
the expedition against Rochelle and the isle of Rhe, com- 
manded by Buckingham, proved a miserable failure. 
More money must therefore be raised, and the king 
unable to do it alone, again assembled parliament, March 
17, 1628, and adopted a tone of great conciliation. 

THIRD PARLIAMENT 

This was the parliament in which Cromwell first 
appeared as member for Huntingdon. 

But the friendly aspect with which this parliament 
opened, soon changed ; the commons, intent on having 
their rights secured, first chastised the sycophant priests 
Main waring, Sibthorpe, and others, and then drew up 



'6 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Ihe famous " Petition of Rights."* This was simply a bill 
to guarantee acknowledged liberties, and check acknow- 
ledged abuses ; but Charles thought his word was better 
than all guaranties, and refused at first to have anything 
to do with it. After a stormy time, however, it passed ; 
and, wherever the joyful tidings spread, bonfires were 
kindled, and bells rung, and the first strong shout of vic- 
tory sent up by the people. 

There was one scene in this parliament that must 
have affected Cromwell deeply. He had witnessed the 
tyranny of the king and the manly defence of the com- 
mons, and the jo3 r of the people, pointing significantly 
which way the power was tending ; but he was to gaze 
on the spectacle of a parliament in tears. As the House, 
a short time previous to the day appointed for its disso- 
lution, "commenced investigating the conduct of the 
Duke of Buckingham, with the intention of denouncing 
him to the king and people — if not by name yet in real- 
ity., — it received a message from Charles, forbidding 
" it to meddle, henceforth, with matters of state." This 
bold stroke of tyranny fell like a thunderbolt on parlia- 
ment. Sir John Elliot first arose and spoke, and soon 
began to throw out hints against Buckingham, when the 
speaker interrupted him, saying, with tears in his eyes, 
" There is a command laid upon me to interrupt any that 
should go about to lay an aspersion on the ministers of 
state." Elliot sat down, and Sir Dudley Digges, spring- 

* That the reader may see how reasonable the demands of parliament 
were, and understand the basis of the quarrel between it and the king, 
we give the " Petition" in full, in Appendix No. I. 



1628.] PARLIAMENT IN TEARS, 17 

ing to his feet, exclaimed : " Unless we may speak of 
these things in parliament, let us arise and begone, or sit 
still and do nothing." A solemn silence followed this 
declaration. At length, Nathaniel Rich spoke, followed 
by Sir Robert Phillips, who wept as he addressed the 
House ; and after him the stern-hearted Pym. Sir Ed- 
ward Coke, " old Coke upon Lyttleton," " the toughest 
man that ever was made, broke down in the midst 
of his speech and fell to weeping." Was there ever 
such a spectacle — a parliament, the noblest that ever 
met in England, in tears? One would give much to 
have looked on the determined brow of Cromwell then, 
and seen how he took this scene, and watched the 
promptings of his fiery heart, as he saw brave men 
weeping for their country. 

This sudden prostration of all hearts was, however, 
but momentary — the House passed from apathy to rage 
— the speaker left the chair — the members sprang to 
their feet, and for a while nothing but clamors and 
shouts could be heard Suddenly, above the tumult, was 
heard the name of Buckingham, and " 'Tis he ! 'tis he !" 
rang in excited accents over the house. Before the 
opposition this sudden storm had aroused, the king was 
compelled to retire, and finally sanctioned the petition of 
rights. But reforms on paper began to be followed by 
demands for reform in practice, and two remonstrances 
were drawn up, one against the Duke of Buckingham, 
and the other against having tonnage and poundage 
duties levied, except, like other taxes, by law. The king, 
seeing there was no end to this cry about grievances, 



18 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

lost all patierce, and in June — three months from the 
time of its assembling., prorogued parliament. 

Cromwell returned to his farm, to ponder on what he 
had seen and heard, while Charles recommenced his 
arbitrary course. 

DEATH OF BUCKINGHAM. 

In the meantime, about two months after parliament 
broke up, Buckingham was murdered by John Felton, a 
former lieutenant in his majesty's service. Thus fell, 
by the hand of an assassin, the favorite of Charles — one 
of his chief supports, and the hated foe of the people and 
parliament. Of a handsome person, courtly manners- 
bold, daring and unscrupulous — he sought power only to 
gratify his love for magnificent display and the baser 
passions of his nature. He neither rejoiced in the pros- 
perity of his country, nor felt for its disasters. Absorbed 
wholly in his selfish schemes, and capable of beholding 
nothing but himself aggrandized, he used his pow T er so 
recklessly that he became a public calamity. Implacable 
in his hatred, fickle in his friendships, promoting his 
flatterers to places of trust, thinking more of seducing a 
woman than of carrying a great political measure ; gay, 
gallant and unprincipled, his death was a great blessing 
to England. Formed to shine in courts, he dazzled 
awhile, and then disappeared from the kingdom he had 
helped to undo. The assassin's knife saved him from 
the scaffold. 

His death exasperated the king, without, teaching him 



1629.] FIRST SPEECH OF CROMWELL. 19 

prudence or opening his eyes to the course everything 
was taking. Instead of yielding, he seemed more intent 
than ever on carrying through his tyrannical mea- 
sures. He heaped favors on those whom the parliament 
had disgraced. Dr. Montague was created Bishop 01 
Chichester ; Mainwaring received a rich benefice, while 
Laud was promoted to the see of London. Illegal taxes 
were levied, and the courts of justice compelled to sanc- 
tion them. Showing, however, a little more tact, he 
surrounded himself with ministers not so obnoxious to 
the people. Wentworth, one of the most eloquent mem- 
bers of parliament, and boldest, earliest friend of liberty, 
was seduced by the title of baron, and a seat in the privy 
council, to the side of the king. Proud and ambitious, 
he sacrificed his principles and obtained his reward — 
viz. power, greatness, and eventually the scaffold. 

FOURTH SESSION OF PARLIAMENT. 

The king, feeling strong with his new council about 
him, again assembled parliament, Jan. 20, 1629. This 
was a short session, but important, if for nothing else, 
in being the first in which Cromwell attempted to speak. 
He accused Dr. Alabaster of having preached "flat 
popery" at St. Paul's Cross ; and that, too, in obedience 
to the Bishop of Winchester. " Mainwaring, too," he 
said, " so lately punished by parliament for his sermons, 
has been recently, within a month, preferred to a rich liv- 
ing, by this same bishop. If these," he exclaimed, " are 



20 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

the steps to church preferment, what may we not ex- 
pect?" 

Soon after the meeting of parliament, it discovered, 
with indignation and disgust, that the king had ordered 
his printer to alter the answer he had given the petition 
of rights, so that it had gone forth a falsehood. Letting 
this pass, however, in silent contempt, it again took up 
the subject of grievances. Reforms, both in religious 
and civil matters, were loudly demanded, and at length 
the tonnage and poundage duties came up. A second 
remonstrance was about to be carried, when the speaker 
informed the house that the king had ordered him not 
to put the motion ; and rose to retire. " God's wounds !" 
exclaimed the fierce Holies; "you shall sit till it please 
the House to rise" The king, hearing of the outbreak, 
sent the sergeant-at-arms to remove the mace, and thus 
arrest all proceedings. But he, too, was kept firmly 
seated, and the doors of the house were locked. A se- 
cond messenger came to dissolve the parliament, but 
could not gain admission. Boiling with rage, at being 
thus defied on his very throne, Charles called the cap- 
tain of his guards and ordered him to force the doors. 
But the vote, in the meantime, had been carried by ac- 
clamation. Armenianism and papacy stood denounced 
before the world ; the levying of tonnage and poundage 
was declared illegal, and those pronounced guilty of high 
treason who should levy or even pay them. Parliament., 
of course, was dissolved.* 

Charles, now firmly resolved to govern alone, com 

* 10th of March. 



PtRSECUTION OF THE PURITANS. 21 

menced a course of tyranny never practised befoie by 
the most despotic monarch of England. Firsl, to relieve 
himself front the financial pressure which had forced 
him so frequei tly to convoke parliament, he concluded 
a peace with France and Spain. The high-handed 
measures which he immediately adopted against the 
patriots caused at first a great sensation ; but parliament 
being dissolved there was nothing around which the 
public indignation could gather and concentrate, and so, 
the murmurs of the disaffected became so many feeble, 
isolated voices, while the complaints of some were 
hushed in the cells of a prison ; where many, and among 
them the noble patriot and martyr, Sir John Elliot, 
eventually died. 

The church, too, came in for its share of power. It 
became concentrated in the hands of the bishops — the 
observance of the liturgy and cathedral rights was en- 
forced, and non-conformists, turned out of their livings 
and forbidden to preach, were sent wandering over the 
country. 

PERSECUTION OF THE PURITANS. 

Persecution commenced ; a system of espionage was 
carried on, and a petty tyranny practised, by that heart- 
ess and bigotted prelate, Laud. Men were put in the 
stocks for circulating pamphlets that denciunced the 
injustice of the times, and their ears cropped off in 
presence of the people. They were forbidden to write, 
to preach, or even talk - ( those questions of conscience 



22 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

which agitated the kingdom. A single unguarded sen- 
tence against the nobility would hurry men to the star- 
chamber, the chief business of which w r as to protect 
the rank and privileges of the former, while the court 
of High Commission was as vindictive and unscrupu- 
lous, if not so cruel, as the inquisition of Rome. The 
guilt or innocence of the offending party was of very lit- 
tle consequence, he was punished with fines, w r hich went 
into the pockets of the king and his nobility ; or with 
imprisonment, or both. 

Laud, as ambitious and fanatical in church matters 
as Charles was in political, bent all his energies to destroy 
liberty of conscience. Not content with turning non- 
conformists out of their livings, he stooped to personal 
and vindictive persecution. A Mr. Workman had said 
that pictures and ornaments in churches were a relic of 
idolatry. For this unlucky speech he was thrown into 
prison, and the mayor and municipal officers of Glouces- 
ter, who had formerly settled on him twenty pounds a 
year, were fined for their kindness. When the term of 
imprisonment expired, Mr. Workman, thrown upon the 
world without the means of subsistence, opened a little 
school. Laud ordered it to be closed. The poor and 
hunted man then turned doctor — Laud commanded, on 
pain of heavy penalties, that no one should buy his 
medicine. Driven out of every means of subsistence by 
this bishop, the poor clergyman went mad and died.* 

It would be useless to mention all the instances of the 
unjust persecution and petty revenge of this unscrupulous 
preiate. Although a stern defender of royal prerogative 

* Vide Neal. 



LAUD. 23 

when the people or parliament was concerned, he nev- 
ertheless unhesitatingly assumed the independence of 
the church, and even went so far as to proclaim the 
divine right of bishops. They held their courts no 
longer in the name of the king, but in their own name, 
and affixed only the episcopal seal to their acts. Not 
content with this, Laud grasped after the civil power, 
persuading Charles to fill places of trust in the state with 
church dignitaries ; until at last Bishop Juxon was made 
High Treasurer. In the church he innovated, with the 
same high hand, on established forms and ceremonies. 
Not only did he have the audacity to alter the internal 
arrangements of churches and customary forms of wor- 
ship long considered sacred, but went so far as to change 
the Liturgy itself, prescribed by parliament, and hitherto 
considered binding on the nation.* Conscientiously and 
sensitively alive to any encroachment on regal power, by 
the representatives of the people in parliament assembled, 
he pushed his own encroachments so boldly, that a king 
less imbecile than Charles would have taken fire at the 
audacity they exhibited. So rapidly and far did he carry 
everything in the church towards papacy, that the Pope 
of Rome offered him a cardinal's hat. A daughter ol 
the Duke of Devonshire having turned Catholic, Laud 
asked her the reason of her conduct. " Chiefly," said 
she, " because I hate to travel in a crowd : I perceive 
your Grace and many others are making haste to Rome ; 
and therefore, in order to prevent my being crowded, I 
have gone before you."f 

* Neal, III., 209. t Vide Hume. 



24 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Persecuted, fined and trampled on by the king and 
his bishops, the people left in such crowds for Holland, 
and thence for America, and carried so much wealth out 
of the kingdom, that the court at length became alarm- 
ed, and passed an ordinance, May 1, 1637, forbidding 
emigration. Eight ships were lying in the Thames at 
the time, ready to depart ; on board of which it is said, 
were Pym, Haselrig, Hampden, and Cromwell. 

Nine years had now passed since Cromwell made 
his first speech in parliament. During this time he had 
lived on his farm, watching, one may guess with what 
feelings, the unblushing and unscrupulous tyranny of the 
king and bishops. A zealous Puritan, he scorned to 
yield to the injustice of the times, and so resolved to 
bury himself in our western wilderness, where he could 
at least worship his God in freedom. One would be glad 
to know of his interviews with Haselrig, Pym, and 
Hampden — of what and how they talked ; and thus get 
an insight into the character of these men before the 
great struggle commences. But this portion of his 
career is wrapt in obscurity ; and the sober, meditative 
farmer is passing the meridian of his life, while events 
are slowly moving to a consummation that even the 
most hopeful do not dream of. 

In the meantime, Strafford, who had been appointed 
over Ireland, was ruling that unhappy country with a 
rod of iron. By a system of pillage and extortion, which 
rivalled even that of his master, he contrived to make 
that island, which had hitherto been a bill of expense, a 
source of revenue to the crown. Do what he would, a 



THEPUR1TAN8. 25 

sum of money could buy the king's pardon ; indeed, if 
of sufficient amount, could buy that of almost any man. 
Under this systematic tyranny of the king and bishops, 
the elements which for years had seemed to settle them- 
selves into obedience, now began to move again. 



LIFE OF THE PURITANS. 

The persecutions of Laud, as all persecutions do, soon 
brought to light those who were willing to be martyrs. 
Though turned out of their livings and forbidden to 
preach, the faithful pastors still found means to instruct 
the people. In cellars, in barns, in the depths of the for- 
ests, they met and discussed those great questions of con- 
science for which it became them, if necessary, to lay 
down their lives. Their situation as hunted fugitives — 
the forlorn and solitary places in which they met — the 
danger that surrounded them, and the indignation arous- 
ed by the injustice of their oppressors, conspired to in- 
flame their imaginations and excite their enthusiasm. 
Clothed in black, with their hair cropped short, they took 
pleasure in marking themselves out as proscribed men. 
Incensed at their proud and stubborn resistance, and its 
inability to check the circulation of pamphlets reflecting 
harshly on the king and bishops, the court caused three of 
I hem, Prynne, Burton, and Bostwick, to be arrested and 
tried before the star chamber. No barrister would un- 
dertake their cause, and they were refused permission to 
defend themselves ; and so, after being insulted/were con- 
demned to the pillory, — to lose their ears, pay £5000 
2 



2f> OLIVER CROMWELL. 

and suffer perpetual imprisonment. Prynne had lost hig 
ears before for a similar offence, and now the stumps 
were again sawed off Crowds assembled to witness the 
execution of this villainous sentence, whom the victims 
addressed with words of encouragement. Six months 
after, Lilburn lost his ears for the same offence, and tied 
to a cart's tail, was whipped through the public streets of 
Westminster ; but exhorted the people, in the midst of 
his sufferings. Scorning the repeated commands to 
stop, he was gagged — still resolute, he drew forth the 
seditious pamphlets from his pockets, and while the lash 
was falling on his back, distributed them to the crowd. 
The opposition, which had been mostly among th, 
lower classes, now began to animate those of highel 
rank. John Hampden, Cromwell's cousin, a gentleman 
of large fortune, unimpeachable integrity, calm, prudent, 
and respectful to his king, refused to pay the ship-money 
levied on him, though it amounted to only twenty shil- 
lings. Hurried away to prison, he showed no passion, 
but calmly said it was as much for the interest of the 
king as for himself and country, that the legality of the 
tax should be decided by the highest judicial tribunal of 
the land. He was tried, and though the law was clearly 
on his side, the judges overawed by Charles, dared not 
decide in his favor. The people, however, took courage 
as they saw the gentry resisting the king and Hamp« 
den's name was in every one's mouth. 



1627.] THE LITURGY IN SCOTLAND. 27 



LAUDS LITURGY RAISES A STORM IN SCOTLAND. 

During this same year, Charles, at the instigation oi 
Laud, undertook to force the liturgy reformed by this 
audacious prelate, down the throats of the sturdy 
Scotch Calvinists, which raised a whirlwind in Scot- 
land. The most intense excitement followed the 
movement; and the next year (Oct. 18, 1637), at the 
introduction of this new liturgy into Edinburgh Ca- 
thedral, the town was besieged by the multitude that 
had flocked thither to resist so high-handed an inno- 
vation of their religious rights. Ordered to return 
home, they assembled again in November, and sent 
their petitions to the king. At length, the next year 
(Feb. 19th), the proclamation of Charles, enforcing the 
liturgy and forbidding the petitioners to assemble under 
penalty of high treason, gave the finishing blow. In a 
moment, Edinburgh was in a blaze — the excited crowds, 
aroused from every part of the country, thronged 
through the streets — highlander and lowlander, noble and 
commoner, struck hands together, and old Scotland stood 
up in her might, with her solemn " Covenant" in her 
hand, and swore to defend it to the last. The fiery 
cross went flashing along the glens, through the valleys, 
and over the mountains, and in six weeks Scotland was 
ready to do battle for her rights. Charles was fright- 
ened at the spirit he had raised, and strove to allay it 
by falsehood; and failing in this, marched his armies 
against the Covenanters. Having arrived at Newcas- 



28 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

tie, he found a superior army encamped at Dunse 
law, ready to meet him, commanded by Lesley ; while, 
attached to every colonel's tent, was this pennon, flying, 
" For Christ's Crown and Covenant." The king retired, 
the two armies separated, and the quarrel, was appa- 
rently settled, though in fact, only deferred. 

While these things were passing in Scotland, Crom- 
well continued on his farm, and in 1638, we find him 
taking an active part in measures set on foot for the 
drainage of the fens in his district. 

This whole affair is wrapt in obscurity. Thus much 
only is known, that he took sides with the people against 
an act of injustice which the king and his commis- 
sioners endeavored to enforce.* By his energy, fear- 
lessness and resolution he succeeded, and became so 
popular in that region that he was called " Lord of the 
Fens." What his future plans were is not known, for 
the momentous public events that soon engrossed the 

* The sum of the matter seems to be, that a plan had been form- 
ed, by the Earl of Bedford and other noblemen, to carr} the Ouse some 
twenty miles in a straight course to the sea, and thus drain millions of 
acres which it then, in its tortuous course, overflowed. Some 400,0)0 
acres had already been reduced by that part called Bedford Level, when 
the funds gave out, and the aid of the crown was sought to enable them 
to carry out the project, for which a certain proportion of the land 
was to be given. But no sooner had the King become a partner in 
the business than he sent commissioners to try claims — in short, 
endeavored to enrich himself at the cost of the poor inhabitants of that 
region. Meetings were held, remonstrances made, yet victory seemed 
hopeless, until Cromwell interfered, and by his boldness, daring and 
energy drove the commissioners and everybody else away. The 
work was never resumed until after the war. 



1638.] LETTER FROM CROMWELL. 28 

attention of every one, put a stop to all internal im- 
provements. During this period, however, he was 
distinguished for his religious enthusiasm. He kept 
days of fasting and prayer, and evening and morning 
knelt, with his workmen by his side, and poured forth 
his earnest supplications to heaven. 

His health, however, suffered under the climate of St. 
Ives and his terrible mental excitement combined, and 
his appearance in church on Sundays, with his pallid, 
solemn face and a red flannel tied around his neck, was 
long remembered by the inhabitants. Of incorruptible 
integrity — charitable and kind to the poor and oppressed 
■ — fervent in prayer, solemn, watchful, resolute and 
enthusiastic, he acquired unbounded influence over 
those who knew him, and already represented in himself 
the elements of that army whose battle shout afterwards 
made the world tremble. 

We do not design to give many of Cromwell's letters, 
but the following, written during this year to his cousin, 
who had married Oliver St. John, a widower, the cele- 
brated barrister w 7 ho defended Hampden so nobly in 
his ship-money trial, exposes Cromwell's religious char- 
acter so fully, that it is worthy especial notice. At 
this time he was a simple farmer — one of the disgraced 
and persecuted non-conformists — with every worldly 
motive against his expressing his religious belief — and 
hence, however true the charge of cant may be, that of 
hypocrisy is too absurd to be entertained for a moment. 
That as a private man — never antic pating public noto- 
riety, and writing a private letter to a female cousin, he 



30 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

assumed a religious sensibility, and spoke of religious 
things except as he felt them, no man of just mind will 
believe. 



" To my beloved Cousin Mrs. St. John, at Sir William Masham his 
House called Otes, in Essex : Present these. 

"Ely, 13th October, 1638. 

"Dear Cousin — I thankfully acknowledge your love in your 
kind remembrance of me upon this opportunity. Alas, you do too 
highly prize my lines and my company. I may be ashamed to 
own your expressions, considering how unprofitable I am, and the 
mean improvement of my talent. 

" Yet to honor my God by declaring what He hath done for my 
soul, in this I am confident, and I will be so. Truly, then, this I 
find : That He giveth springs in a dry barren wilderness where no 
water is. I live, you know where — in Meshec, which they say 
signifies Prolonging ; in Kedar, which signifies Blackness; yet the 
Lord forsaketh me not. Though He do prolong, yet He will, I 
trust, bring me to His Tabernacle, to His resting-place. My soul 
is with the Congregation of the First-born, my body rests in hope : 
and if here I may honor my God either by doing or suffering, I 
shall be most glad. 

" Truly no poor creature hath more cause to put himself forth in 
the cause of his God than I. I have had plentiful wages before- 
hand ) and I am sure I shall never earn the least mite. The Lord 
accept me in His Son, and give me to walk in the light — and give 
us to walk in the light, as He is the light ! He it is that enlight- 
ened our blackness, our darkness. I dare not say, He hideth Hia 
face from me. He giveth me to see light in His light. One beam 
in a dark place hath exceeding much refreshment in it : — blessed 
be His name for shining on so dark a heart as mine ! You know 
what my manner of life hath been. Oh, I Jved in and .oved dark- 



1638.] THUU PARLIAMENT. 81 

ness, and nated light; I was a chief, the chief of sinners. This 
is true : 1 hated godliness, yet God had mercy on me. O the 
riches of His mercy ! Praise Him for me ; pray for me, that He 
who hath begun a good work would perfect it in the day of Christ. 

" Salute ail my friends in that Family whereof you are yet a mem- 
ber. I am much bound unto them for their love. I bless the Lord 
for them; and that my Son, by their procurement, is so well. 
Let him have your prayers, your counsel ; let me have them. 

" Salute your husband and sister from me : — He is not a man 
of his word ! He promised to write about Mr. Wrath of Epping; 
bnt as yet I receive no letters : — put him in mind to do what 
with conveniency may be done for the poor Cousin I did solicit 
him about. 

" Once more farewell. The Lord be with you : so prayeth 
" Your truly loving cousin, 

"Oliver Cromwell." 



What a flood of light does this letter throw upon his 
character at this time. Absorbed in the contemplation 
of religious things, with the glory of heaven on one side, 
and the "blackness of darkness" on the other — angels 
and fiends beckoning him by turns — the shouts of " the 
congregation of the first-born," and the sad lament of 
the dwellers of Meshec, alternately falling on his excited 
ear — now looking into the abodes of light, and now gaz- 
ing steadfastly into the deep abyss of the pit of despair — - 
his strong intellect is shaken to its foundation, and 
nothing but a life of action, giving vent to his pent-up 
excitement, can save him from the gloomiest fanaticism. 
Swayed by one master passion, he is undergoing a fear- 
ful preparation for the scenes before him. The elegant 



32 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Hampden, ihe astute St. John, the firm Bradshaw 
and crafty Vane, nay, all England are yet to bend before 
this soul of fire. Fearless of consequences, ready to 
suffer martyrdom — indeed, ready for anything at the call 
of his Great Master, he stands on the threshhold of this 
long struggle, resolved to bear himself like a man, a 
Christian, and a hero. This letter shows in every line 
of it the most perfect sincerity. That passage in which 
he speaks of himself as the chief of sinners, has been 
adduced as proof that he formerly led a dissolute life ; 
while it evidently is meant only to express his sense of 
the deep sinfulness of his heart in an unconverted state. 
He is full of that dread eternity, on the vast concerns 
of which he is ever gazing, and struggling after the 
perlect freedom of the "sons of God." Whatever 
he may become in after life, he is now a true-hearted 
Puiitan, with all the peculiar views of conviction, re- 
generation, and a spiritual life, of that sect; and is 
straining forward "towards the mark for the prize of the 
high calling." Wars and rumors of wars are borne to 
his ears — the land is filled with corruption, oppression 
and complaints, and old England is surging to and fro, 
like the sea before a storm. Across the blackness of 
the political horizon he can see no dawning light ; and 
vainly seeking to abandon the home of his childhood 
and the land of his birth, that he may serve his God and 
win heaven, he has at length settled down with the firm 
resolution to suffer shame, reproach and persecution, 
Call him self-deluded, superstitious, fanatical, if you will, 
but honest he certainly is. 



CHAPTER II. 

FROM THE LONG PARLIAMENT TO THE FIRST CIVIL WAH 

1640—1642. 

Short Parliament — Second Invasion of Scotland — Meeting of the Long 
Parliament — Its Stern Aspect — Impeachment of Laud — Trial and 
Death ol Strafford — His Character — Personal Appearance of Crom- 
well — Appointed on a Private Committee — Defends the Poor — The 
King Visits Scotland — Grand Petition and Remonstrance — Stormy 
Dehate upon It — Cromwell's View of It — Withdrawal of the Bish- 
ops — Their Impeachment — Attempt to Seize the Five Members — 
Excitement Caused by It — The King Leaves Whitehall never to 
Return except as a Prisoner — Recapitulation — Cromwell a Patriot 

Charles at length exhausted all the means which 
unscrupulous tyranny could devise, but his treasury was 
still empty ; and as a last resort, he resolved to call a 
new parliament, in order tojQbtain money with which 
to raise another army to subdue the Scots. It met 
April 16, 1640. He had got along eleven years with- 
out a parliament, but was now fairly driven to the 
wall. 

But during these eleven years the commons had not 
forgotten grievances ; and when the king asked for sup- 
plies, he received in reply "grievances." Nothing could 
be done with a parliament that talked only of griev- 
ances, and in three weeks it was dissolved. Money be* 
2* 



34 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ing raised by ether means, an army was equipped and 
marched to the Scottish borders, to force the inhabitants 
to swallow Laud's liturgy. He was compelled, however, 
to retreat before the Scotch forces under Lesley, who, 
crossing the Tweed, seemed resolved to seek redress at 
the foot of the throne itself. Finding himself still deeper 
involved, he again convoked parliament in November, 
for the double purpose of making a treaty with the vic- 
torious Scots and of relieving the finances of the 
kingdom. 

This was the famous Long Parliament. Exasperated 
at its last dissolution — enraged at the falsehoods and 
tyranny of the king, and perceiving at last that he, with 
his favorites, Bishop Laud and the Earl of Strafford, 
were bent on breaking down the constitution of England 
— it met with the stern purpose of taking the manage- 
ment of affairs into its own hands. The king saw, at a 
glance, that he had got to retreat, or close in a mortal 
struggle with his parliament. The respect showed him 
at his opening speech, was cold and even haughty. The 
proud determination that sat on the countenances of the 
members awed even the monarch ; and the fierce indig- 
nation which broke forth at his departure, told his friends 
that a crisis had come. Every member had some peti- 
tion from his constituents to offer, and the eleven years 
of arbitrary rule he had tried, and was now compelled to 
abandon, received a terrible review. Monopolies, ship- 
money, illegal arrests, the despotism of the bishops, and 
the action of arbitrary courts, came up in rapid succes- 
sion, each adding to the torrent of indignation that was 



1641.] TRIAL OF STRAFFORD. 35 

about to roll on the throne. One of the first acts of this 
parliament was, to declare every member of it who had 
taken part in any monopoly, unworthy of his place, and 
four were immediately excluded. This decision fell 
like a thunderbolt on the king and his party, and filled 
the people with unbounded joy. The unscrupulous 
agents of the government — despotic bishops, corrupt 
judges, and even ministers of state — were struck dumb 
by the boldness of the attitude assumed. The people 
saw that the tide had turned, and were animated with 
the liveliest hopes. Presbyterian preachers resumed 
their livings — suppressed pamphlets were again sent 
abroad on the wings of the wind — church despotism 
dared not wag its head ; and yet, no legal steps had been 
taken to produce the change. It was simply the moral 
effect of the firmness of parliament ; the people felt that 
it was on their side, and took confidence in resisting 
oppression, while those who had made them suffer, be- 
gan to fear that the chalice they had pressed so cruelly 
to the lips of others, they might in turn be forced to 
drink. 

TRIAL AND DEATH OF STRAFFORD. 

Strafford, who was with the remains of the army 
that had retired before the Scotch, was summoned by 
Charles to London. Foreseeing the storm that was 
about to burst on him, as the chief counsellor of his king, 
he besought that he might keep aloof. Charles, however, 
promised to protect him at all hazards, and the earl find- 



36 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ing no way of escape, boldly threw himself amid his 
enemies, resolving to forestall them by impeaching some 
of the leaders of parliament as aiders and abettors of the 
Scotch invasion. Pym and his friends, however, antici- 
pated him, and suddenly accused him of high treason. 
The House of Lords sustained the impeachment, and 
the haughty minister was sent to the Tower. The next 
blow fell on Archbishop Laud ; and he, too, was com- 
pelled to taste the pleasures of imprisonment, which he 
had bestowed so lavishly on others. Things began to 
look significant — the head of civil oppression, and the 
leader of religious despotism were both struck, within a 
short time of each other, and the character of the com- 
ing revolution clearly pronounced. 

The next step was still more significant. A bill was 
passed, making it necessary that a parliament should 
assemble at least once in three years, and not be dis- 
solved until fifty days after meeting. The king, though 
filled with rage, was compelled to sanction it. 

The trial of Strafford immediately followed, lasting 
seventeen days. This unprincipled but gifted states- 
man defended himself with all the ability which had 
marked his political course. But his eloquence and his 
arguments were alike unavailing. His death was re- 
solved upon — the parliament, the people, and the welfare 
of the nation demanded it. Still his learning and 
genius might have saved him, had not Sir Arthur Has- 
selrig, by a bold stroke, relieved the judges from the re- 
sponsibility under which they were placed. He moved 
a bill of attainder, by which Strafford was declared guilty 



164 1.] STRAFFORD CONDEMNED. 3*7 

by act of parliament. Fr.jm that moment, the fate of 
the unfortunate earl was sealed. He struggled nobly, 
but he fell at last. Sentence of death was pronounced 
upon him, and it needed but the royal signature to se- 
cure its immediate execution. Charles delayed and 
deferred, and sought, by every means, to save his favo- 
rite. He had given his royal word to Strafford, that if 
he obeyed his summons and came amid his enemies ; 
that he would protect him from all harm. Alas, for 
his honor! fear for his own safety and that of his 
throne, overcame his scruples, and he signed the death- 
warrant. No wonder that Strafford when he heard of it 
said — "Put not your trust in princes." We will not 
argue the naked question of guilt or innocence with 
respect to the charge of high treason, for in fact the 
trial did not turn on that. There is no doubt that he, 
Avith Charles, conspired to overturn the liberties of the 
people, and by fraud and force destroy the very laws 
on which they rested. Of the system of tyranny which 
looked to this result, Strafford was the soul and energy. 
One of the first and ablest friends of liberty, he had be- 
come an apostate ; and shielded by no prejudice, blinded 
by no false notions of royal prerogative, boldly and 
steadily advanced to the work of ruin he had planned, 
Selling his conscience and honor for a title, he bent al 
his vast energies to the destruction of those whom he 
had betrayed. Injustice, cruelty and suffering had also 
been inflicted by him. In Ireland he had trampled on 
the courts of justice, extorted enormous fines from the 
Irish nobility, and ruled with a rod of iron. Thus, in 



38 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

both islands, he had become a hated tyrant, and his death 
seemed indispensable to the welfare of the realm. So 
long as he, with his all-grasping mind and great energy, 
stood by the king, there w r as no hope for England. The 
public good demanded his overthrow, and it was in fact 
before this stern demand that he fell. By his apostasy, 
his tyranny, his injustice, his treasonable plans for the 
subversion of English liberty, he deserved to die. At 
all events, if he did not, then is Charles doubly damned 
— first, for violating his kingly promise, that he should 
not be injured, and second, for signing the death-war- 
rant of a friend who was innocent of the crimes alleged 
against him. How those who assail the parliament for 
condemning Strafford can attempt to exculpate Charles 
seems strange enough, yet so it is. 

With transcendent ability Strafford was nevertheless a 
base man. Traitor first, a tyrant afterwards, his " vault- 
ing ambition" at length " o'erleaped itself." His career, 
though dazzling and lofty, was stained in every part by 
some crime. To say nothing of his robberies and ex- 
tortions in Ireland, his treatment of Lord Mountmorris 
and Lord Ely is sufficient . to stamp him with lasting 
infamy. The former, for a mere expression condemna- 
tory of his conduct, he dragged before a tribunal which 
he himself controlled, and caused sentence of death to be 
pronounced upon him. His life was indeed spared, yet 
on such terms that made even death preferable. The 
latter he sent to prison, in order to force him to settle 
his estate according to the Wishes of his daughter-in- 
law, whom Strafford had seduced. Whether, therefore, 



CAUSES OF THE REVOLUTION. 39 

under the technicalities of the law, he was strictly guilty 
of high treason 1 * not, he merited his fate, not only foi 
his public but his private acts. The House, however, 
on his condemnation, nobly excluded his children from 
the legal consequences of the sentence, an act of gene- 
rosity for which they had no precedent in the king. 

Cromwell saw this thrilling scene from its beginning 
to its denouement. The trial and execution of a man 
next to the king, in authority and power, must have 
made a deep impression upon him, and exerted a power- 
ful influence on his after course. To his just mind, 
unbiased by reverence for blood, and judging actions by 
the simple rule of right, there could have been but little 
difference between the guilt of the king and his minis- 
ter; and when we remember this precedent which he 
had before him, and by whom it was furnished, we can- 
not be surprised at the readiness with which he after- 
wards affixed his signature to the death-warrant of 
Charles. 

At the opening of this parliament the spring previous, 
Cromwell made a speech on presenting a petition of John 
Lilburn, the man who had been tied to a cart's tail, and 
whipped through the streets of Westminster. The fol- 
lowing description of his personal appearance, at that 
time, is given by Sir Phillip Warwick : " The first time 
I ever took notice of Mr. Cromwell," says he, " was in 
the very beginning of the parliament held in November, 
1640. * * I came into the House, one morning, well 
clad, and perceived a gentleman speaking, whom I knew 
not — very ordinarily appa.relled ; for it was a plain cloth 



40 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

suit, which seemed to have been made by an ill countr) 
tailor ; his linen was plain, and not very clean ; and 1 
remember a speck or two of blood upon his little band,* 
which was not much larger than his collar. His hat 
was without a hat-band. His stature was of good size; 
his sword stuck close to his side ; his countenance swol- 
len and reddish; his voice sharp and untuneable, and 
his eloquence full of fervor: for the subject matter 
would not bear much reason, it being in behalf of a ser- 
vant of Mr. Prynne's, who had dispensed Bibles. I sin- 
cerely profess it lessened my reverence unto that great 
council, for this gentleman w r as much harkened unto." 

Add to this, a face whose features seemed wrought 
out of iron, a large rubicund nose, wrinkled and warted 
cheeks, heavy and shaggy eyebrows, with a majestic 
forehead above them, rising like the front of a marble 
temple over the coarser features beneath, and around 
it rich and clustering hair, parted in the middle, with a 
single lock straying loosely by itself — firm-set lips, deep 
and solemn grey eyes, piercing you through and through, 
and when lit by excitement terrible as lightning, and 
you have the personal appearance of Oliver Cromwell. 
There were about him, also, an air of command, and a 
conscious superiority, to which the proudest noble and 
the fiercest foe alike yielded deference. 

On this occasion, he was to defend one who had been 
publicly whipped for the very sentiments he himself 
entertained. Bold, fearless and decided, with his indig- 
nation aroused by the injustice of the act, no wonder 

* Probably he had cut himself in shaving. 



1641.] ON A PRIVATE COMMITTEE. 41 

his "eloquence was full of fervor." The inherent right 
to command — that secret power over others acknow- 
ledged in such men as Washington and Bonaparte, 
were unconsciously recognized by the House, and it 
listened to him, it scarce knew why, with the deepes; 
attention. 

A few months after this speech, we find Cromwell on 
a private committee, appointed to investigate a difficulty 
existing between certain tenants of the Queen's Manors, 
and inhabitants bordering upon them, upon one side, 
and the Earl of Manchester and his son on the other. 
Large tracts of land which belonged to the Queen's 
Manors, and had been left as commons, were ordered to 
be enclosed without consent of the tenants, and the 
avails given to the earl. Against his oppression the 
tenants, and others who had long used these commons, 
made complaint. This private committee sat in the 
Queen's Court, and Cromwell took strong ground in 
favor of the petitioners. Lord Clarendon was chairman 
of that committee, and hence his statement should be 
taken with many grains of allowance, when he says 
"that Cromwell defended the petitioners with a great 
deal of passion, and when the chairman threatened them 
with punishment if they did not cease their clamors and 
interruptions of the opposite witnesses and counsel, 
that he broke forth in great fury, denouncing him, the 
chairman, as partial, and endeavoring to browbeat the 
petitioners. The chairman appealed to the committee, 
who sustained him ; on which Cromwell became still 
more furious, and when Lord Mandevil attempted to 



42 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

defend his course with the tenants, he answered him 
with much rudeness and vehemence ; and, indeed, be- 
came so tempestuous that he was compelled to reprehend 
him, and threaten, if he did not desist, to adjourn the 
committee and complain of him to the House." This 
is the chairman's account ; but one who is acquainted 
with the views entertained at that time by noble lords 
of the rights of ignorant tenants, and the summary 
manner they were ordinarily disposed of, can have no 
difficulty in ascertaining the truth. Why should Crom- 
well become so excited and tempestuous ; and breaking 
over all bounds, hurl his denunciations on both the 
chairman and the oppressive earl? He had no interest 
in the case, except so far as he wished justice done. 
He saw that those ignorant rustics were looked upon 
with contempt — their rights undervalued, and that noble 
blood would outweigh justice in the balance, and his 
republican spirit took fire. He, therefore, stepped be- 
tween them and their oppressors, and accused the 
latter of partiality and wrong. It was not a question 
which involved his religious feelings, but simply one of 
right between man and man ; and Clarendon has over- 
shot his mark, in endeavoring to make us believe that 
Cromwell became so rude, outrageous and uncontrolla- 
ble, without provocation. He proves very conclusively 
that great wrong was done in that committee, and the 
fire that flashed from Cromwell's eye, and the invec- 
tive that poured from his lips, were called forth by it and 
it alone. 

This year, 1641, was pregnant with great events. 



1G4L] THE KING VISITS SCOTLAND. 43 

Strafford was executed May 11 — the king gave his 
consent to the abolition of the star-chamber court oi 
high commission, and all arbitrary tribunals, July 5, 
and departed for Scotland in August. His northern 
trip was ostensibly for the purpose of ratifying the treaty 
with the Scotch, but in fact, to get proofs on which to 
accuse the leaders of parliament of high treason, in carry- 
ing on a correspondence with the Scotch covenanters — ■ 
thus, perhaps inducing the invasion itself. In the mean- 
time, parliament adjourned for six weeks. 

In November the massacre of the Irish Protestants, 
by the papists, took place. 

The king failed in his visit to Scotland. Though 
he devoutly attended Presbyterian churches — heard the 
long prayers and longer sermons of Presbyterian preach- 
ers with becoming gravity, and seemed sufficiently 
conciliating to please the most dissatisfied; the discovery 
of the plot he had laid against the parliament aroused 
the deepest indignation ; and when it again assembled, 
it was with the full belief that Charles meditated its 
destruction by violence. What with army plots — plots 
against members — Irish massacres, and the universal 
outcry against- religious oppression and corruption, and 
the fear of some great approaching evil, England was 
moved to its centre. The cries of the multitude rang 
around the walls of parliament ; and in the city and the 
country everything was in commotion. 

All these causes combined impelled parliament to 
draw up a grand petition and remonstrance. 



41 OLIVER CROMWELL. 



GRAND PETITION AND REMONSTRANCE. 

This, not content with setting forth prevailing abuses 
went carefully over the past — contrasting the course of 
the king with that of the parliament, and placed the blame 
of the evils which burdened the land on the throne itself. 
It was designed for the people rather than the king, and 
expected to gain more by receiving their sympathy and 
co-operation than by obtaining any redress from the 
throne. The debate on it was the stormiest ever wit- 
nessed in the House. On Nov. 21, a motion was made 
to put it to vote, but Lord Falkland and others insisted 
that it should lie over till next day, which was done. 
On coming out of the House, Cromwell said to him, 
" Why would you have it put off; the day would quick- 
ly have determined it." " There would not have been 
time enough," said Falkland, "for sure it would take 
some debate." " A very sorry one," answered Crom- 
well. 

The next day, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the 
debate commenced, and continued till midnight, when 
the House divided, and one hundred and .fifty-nine w r ere 
found in its favor, and a hundred and forty-eight against 
it. Hampden immediately moved that it should be 
printed. Upon this the long smothered fire bioke forth 
"I protest, I protest!" rang from different parts of the 
House ; all was uproar and clamor — members laid their 
hands upon their swords ; and for tw T o hours the Housa 
presented a scene of confusion and passion fearful and 



1641.] PETITION AND REMONSTRANCE. 45 

indescribable. At length, on motion of Hampden, the 
question of printing was laid over till next day. What 
Cromwell said in this tumult, or what he did, we know 
nothing ; yet one may be well assured that when mem- 
bers sprang to their feet and laid their hands upon their 
swords, he was not among the least excited : and had 
words come to blows, his stalwart arm would have been 
the first to strike. 

At two o'clock in the morning the House adjourned ; 
and as they were coming out Falkland said to Cromwell, 
"Well, was there a debate?" "I'll take your word 
another time," replied the latter; and then added in a 
low tone, "had the remonstrance been rejected, I would, 
to-morrow, have sold everything I possessed and never 
seen England more; and I know many other honest 
men of the same opinion." 

The next afternoon, the motion to print was carried. 
P t'om this time the disorders increased, and petitions 
against the bishops and episcopacy flowed in from every 
quarter to the lower House. The prelates themselves 
were treated with open insult by the populace, and com- 
pelled to retire secretly from the House of Lords to their 
homes. Scenes of violence occurred in the streets, and 
the friends of the king under the name of Cavaliers and 
those of parliament distinguished as Roundheads formed 
separate parties. Parliament asked the king for a 
guard, and receiving a refusal, passed a vote authorising 
every member to bring an armed servant with him.* 
The bishops insulted and assailed, finally withdrew from 

* Vide Clarendon, Warwick, &c. 



16 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

parliament, and drew up a protest declaring that all it? 
acts were null and void, without their sanction. In- 
dignant at this high-handed act, the commons im- 
peached the twelve bishops who had signed it and sent 
them to the Tower. 

The disorder and excitement around Westminstei 
and Whitehall extended to the country — associations 
were formed in almost every place to defend both civil 
and religious liberty, and the fires of rebellion were 
rapidly kindling all over the land. 

The king, in the meantime, instead of relenting, 
seemed resolved on still bolder measures than hitherto 
adopted. Lord Digby, now his most influential adviser, 
proposed that open violence should be employed to re- 
duce the commons to obedience. In constant conference 
with the queen, he won her, and at length the king, 
over to his daring plans; and at the opening of the new 
year, 1642, the final explosion took place. The number 
of cavaliers around the House of Commons kept in- 
creasing daily, and the members becoming still more 
alarmed, again petitioned the king for a guard. He 
again refused, giving his sacred promise that no violence 
should be attempted, saying, " We do engage unto you, 
solemnly, on the word of a king, that the security of all 
and every one of you from violence, is and ever shall be 
as much our care as the preservation of us and our 
child en." 



1642.] FIVE MEMBERS SEIZED. 47 

ATTEMPTED SEIZURE OF THE FIVE MEMBERS. 

This was January 3d ; yet on that very day, he sent 
nis attorney-general, Sir Edward Herbert, to the House 
of Peers, to accuse five members of the commons, 
Hampden, Pym, Holies, Strode and Haselrig, of high 
treason, and demand their arrest. Right on the heels ot 
his sacred promise not to use violence, came his ser- 
geant-at-arms to secure the accused; but the House 
would not give them up, declaring that consideration 
was required before such a breach of privilege could be 
allowed. The next day it was announced that the king, 
with several hundred men, all armed, was on his way to 
take by force what he could not obtain by command. 
At the news, swords flashed in the hall of parliament, 
and brows knit in stern defiance. But better counsels 
prevailed, and the five members were hurried away be- 
fore the guard arrived. The king left his soldiers at the 
door, and entered the House, accompanied only by his 
nephew. He paused a moment on the threshhold, and 
then advanced towards the Speaker's chair. Not a 
sound broke the silence that succeeded his entrance, and 
every footfall was distinctly heard as he slowly strode up 
the hall. Taking the Speaker's seat, he glanced over the 
House, and it is said when his eye encountered that of 
Cromwell, the savage glare, and fixed defiant expression 
of the latter, arrested his attention, and for a brief space 
the two future rivals sat face to face — one endeavoring 
to overawe by his calm, proud and haughty glance ; the 
other, engrossed only with his burning passion, and firm 



48 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

determination to resist. At length, the king's eve bent 
before the steady gaze of Cromwell. He then made a 
speech, saying that he expected that the accused, as soon 
as they returned, would be sent to him ; and departed. 
As he passed through the door, the smothered indignation 
broke forth, and " privilege ! privilege !" smote his ear. 

The next day the citizens rushed to arms, and all 
was in commotion. As the king passed through the 
crowd, it was silent and cold, save when the cry of 
" privilege ! privilege !" was repeated, in suppressed mur- 
murs ; and a pamphlet was thrown into his carriage, 
headed, " To your tents, O Israel !" — the watchword of 
the ten tribes of Israel, when they revolted from their 
king. 

Here is the beginning of the war. The parliament 
found that it must surround itself with armed *Vce for 
self-protection — an armed force begat armed force, till 
civil war broke forth in all its fury. Hitherto, Charles 
had professed great affection and respect for parliament 
— made endless promises, and broken them, "on the 
word of a king." But now, farther duplicity was of no 
avail — the mask was off, and hostilities had commenced, 
and though peace could be, and was talked about, 
parliament resolved never to let supreme power again 
rest in the hands of a monarch who seemed to have no 
moral sense respecting truth and falsehood. Besides, 
the leaders of parliament knew that they now lived with 
a halter about their necks, and let Charles once gain 
the ascendancy he formerly held, he would make sum- 
mary work with them. 



1641.] RECAPITULATION. 49 

The king, with his court and family, now left White- 
hall, never to revisit it again, except as he bid it farewell 
to ascend the scaffold. Negotiations were for awhile 
kept up between him and parliament — his sanction 
to a bill excluding the imprisoned bishops from a 
seat in the House of Lords, was asked ; and at length, 
in order to secure the safe retreat of his wife into 
France, given. Parliament also sent to know if he 
would grant them "power of militia," (i. e. to raise 
militia for their own defence,) and accept the list of 
lord lieutenants made out by them. "No, by God," he 
answered, " not for an hour ;" and so militia had to be 
raised in some other way than through royal permission. 

In this synopsis, the career and separate steps of the 
i evolution may be traced out. First, parliament wished 
to place some restrictions on arbitrary power, nothing 
more. The resistance and madness of Charles, aroused 
indignation, and boldness, and discussion. The natural 
result, was, clearer views of their own rights, and of the 
injustice of the king's arbitrary conduct. The king in- 
stead of yielding with grace, multiplied his tyrannical 
acts, and incensed still more the commons of England. 
Not satisfied with being himself a despot in civil mat- 
ters, he allowed the fanatical Laud to be one in affairs 
of the church. Thus, while he exasperated parlia- 
ment, Laud maddened the people, and so transferred or 
rather extended the quarrel from it, to every town in 
the land ; making the excitement and opposition uni- 
versal. Slight reforms were sought in the first place, 
but the principles of justice on which they were based, 



50 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

soon brought to light grievances, whose removal would 
infringe still more on the sovereignty of the king. The 
king resisted, but the commons stood firm, and as 
soon as the people found they had a strong ally, they 
brought in their grievances on religious matters. Bro- 
ken promises, falsehoods, secret and open tyranny, every- 
where practised by the king and his bishops, rendered 
the breach between the monarch and his subjects still 
wider, until at length, royal pikes gleamed around parlia- 
ment. Assailed by physical force, parliament sought to 
protect itself by physical force, and violence took the 
place of discussion and remonstrance, and revolution 
succeeded reformation. There was nothing unnatural 
in all this — there will be the same result in every despot- 
ism of Europe, so soon as there can be a representation 
of the people, bold enough to ask justice. 

For taking part in such a movement of the English 
people — fighting bravely for the English Constitution and 
English liberty ; and finally bringing the revolution to 
the only peaceful termination it could have had — Oliver 
Cromwell has been termed a regicide, a monster, and a 
tyrant. But not so will he appear to future generations 
— not so does he appear to us. In every step of his pro- 
gress, we see the patriot and the honest man. There 
are always the same massive features, grave counte- 
nance and serious air, with here and there indications ot 
the volcano within. Whether wandering by the banks ot 
the Ouse, gloomy and desponding, as he attempts to look 
into that mysterious eternity to which he is hastening— 
or riding all fierce and terrible, amid his Ironsides 



1G42.] HIS CHARACTER. 51 

through the smoke of battle — or with hat on his head 
stamping on the floor of parliament, and hurling defi- 
ance on all around — or praying in the midst of the mid- 
night storm, as life is receding; he is the same reso- 
lute, thoughtful, and lofty man. Unlike most distin- 
guished characters, he entered on public life late, 
and was forty years of age, before he took any part 
in those scenes in which he was afterwards to be 
the chief actor. His history is a forcible illustration of 
the effect of circumstances on a man's fortune. Had 
England remained quiet, Cromwell like Washington, 
would have spent his energies on his farm, improving 
his estate ; and died a good, straighforward English gen- 
tleman. But the field which the revolution opened to 
him, soon scattered his plans for the improvement of his 
lands to the wind ; and the too severe, too contemplative 
religionist, entered on a life of action, that left his disor- 
dered fancy but little time to people his brain with 
strange and gloomy forms. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE FIRST CIV u WAR FROM 1642 TO THE CAMPAIGN 

OF 1644. 

Activity of Cromwell — Preparations for War — The King Erects his 
Standard — Battle of Edgehill — Cromwell's Opinion of It — Resolves 
to Raise his Ironsides — Their Character — Fight at Brentford — Enthu- 
siasm of the Citizens of London — Cromwell Takes Croyland, Lowe- 
stoff, Stamford and Burleigh House — Fight at Grantham — Fight at 
Gainsborough — Death of Hampden — His Last Hours and Burial — His 
Character — The Aid of Scotland Sought — Mob of Women in London 
— Battle of Newbury — Cromwell Governor of Ely — Ratification of 
the Covenant — Winceby Fight — Religious Character of the Revo- 
lution. 

Although parliament and the king occupied a warlike 
attitude to each other, hostilities were still delayed, and 
messages and missives, without end, passed between 
them. The former had not yet made up its mind to do 
without the latter, and sought only to abridge his power. 

In the meantime, royalist writers used their pens with 
such vigor, that the cause of parliament rapidly declined ; 
and, at length, a petition from Kent was presented, 
praying for the restoration of the royal prerogative, and 
of episcopacy. It was rejected, and parliament, attribut- 
ing it to the effects of the late writings of the royalists, 
immediately instituted a severe censorship of the press. 
But while th ngs were in this state of uncertainty, 



1642.] cromwell's activity. 53 

Cromwell did not remain inactive. In February, 1642, 
he offered to lend parliament £500, to help quell the in- 
surrection in Ireland. In April, he is found reporting to 
the House of Commons, that the petition on prerogative 
and episcopacy is about to be presented again, and 
receives orders to prevent it. Leaving the statesmen 
to manage things in the House, he occupied himself 
with external matters — keeping alive the sympathy of the 
people — watching and baffling the royalists, and exhibit- 
ing the practical power which afterwards carried him 
to such an elevation.* He already began to fulfil the 
prediction made by his cousin Hampden of him to 
Lord Digby. Cromwell, on a certain occasion, was 
addressing the House in his abrupt, ardent manner, 
when Lord Digby, who did not know him, bent forward 
and asked Hampden who " that sloven" was. " That 
sloven," replied the latter, "w T hom you see before you, 
hath no ornament in his speech — that sloven, I say, if 
we should ever come to a breach with the king (which 
God forbid) will be the greatest man in the kingdom." 

In the meantime, negotiations failing, the king and 
parliament prepared for war: — the former issued his 
"commission of array," in order to raise an army; and 
the latter, their " ordinance for the militia," for the same 
purpose. These two calls for troops, issued by two 
different authorities, rapidly divided the land, and on 
one and the other side, the people began to arrange 
themselves. 

In July, Cromwell asked permission of parliament to 
•Vide Par Hist. II., 1194. 



54 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

go down to Cambridge, and raise two companies of 
volunteers — offering to give, himself, £100, towards de- 
fraying the expenses. Here was high treason at the 
outset, and if the king should conquer, loss of life would 
follow; but he had taken his course, and not all the 
kings in the world could turn him aside. Oxford sent its 
plate to the king, to be melted down for royal use ; and 
Cambridge was about to follow its example, when 
Cromwell, hearing of it, hastened thither, and summon- 
ing his train-bands, prevented it. 



THE KING ERECTS HIS STANDARD. 

This was August 15th, and eight days after, the king 
erected the royal standard at Nottingham, and called his 
subjects to rally around it. It was just at evening — the 
sky was dark and gloomy, and the wind swept by in 
gusts — when Charles rode out to a hill that overlooked 
the town, accompanied by eight hundred horse, and a 
few militia, and ordered his proclamation to be read. 
The trumpets then sounded, and the standard, bearing 
the motto, "Render unto Caesar the things that are 
Caesar's," was hoisted to the top of the castle, and hailed 
with acclamations of "God save the king!" The next 
day, however, the wind blew it down. Charles was 
angry that such an untoward accident should occur at 
the outset, and commanded the heralds to plant it 
outside the castle, in the open ground. This they at- 
tempted to do ; but the soil was rocky, and resisted all 
their efforts to sink the flag-staff in it. They then en- 



1642.] THE ARMIES TAKE THE FIELD. 55 

deavorel to dig a hole with their dagger-points, but for 
several hours were compelled to hold the standard in 
their hands. The spectators regarded it as a bad omen, 
and went away filled with gloomy anticipations. 

At length, however, a royal army of 12,000 men was 
raised, and the cavalry placed under the bold and brutal 
Prince Rupert, the king's nephew. The parliament had 
succeeded, also, in bringing into the field 20,000 in- 
fantry, and 4,500 horse, and given the command to the 
Earl of Essex. The cavalry was divided into seventy- 
five squadrons, each composed of sixty horse. Over 
.one of these Cromwell was appointed captain. His son 
Oliver was also cornet in the squadron under the Earl 
of Bedford. Thus, father and son went forth together, 
to offer up their lives for their country. 

The parliamentary force assembled at Northampton, 
and the nation looked forward, with breathless anxiety, 
to the first encounter of the people with their king. 
The country around no longer wore its peaceful look. 
Troops of horse were seen crossing it in every direction 
to the place of rendezvous ; and the blast of the bugle, 
and roll. of the drum, and tread of marching men, sent 
terror through the quiet villages and rural districts of 
England. They came pouring in from every quarter, 
and when all were assembled, that army of nearly 25,000 
men, presented a formidable array against King Charles 
and his cavaliers. 

After lying some time at Northampton, Essex at 
length got in motion, and moving by easy marches, ar- 
rived, on the 23d of September, at Worcester, within 3 



56 O LIVER C R O MWE1 L , 

few leagues of the royal forces. Here he halted for 
three weeks, as if his sole business was to wait the king's 
pleasure. Charles, seeing the dilatoriness of his antago- 
nist, resolved to march at once on London, and finish 
• the war by a single stroke. He immediately put his 
troops in motion, and got three days' march ahead, 
before Essex seemed to wake from his lethargy. Being 
at last roused by the pressing danger of parliament and 
London, he commenced the pursuit. But in the mean- 
time the greatest alarm prevailed in the city. Every 
hour the hostile army was drawing nearer, while the 
forces of Essex were nowhere to be seen. The parlia- 
ment, however, instead of being terror-struck, aroused 
the people to resistance. All who had not voluntarily 
subscribed to the support of the army were immediately 
taxed, and those who refused to pay hurried off to 
prison. The disaffected were deprived of arms ; every 
stable in and about the town was forced to yield its 
complement of horses, and squadrons of horse sprung 
like magic into existence. Fortifications were hastily 
thrown up, barricades erected, and chains strung across 
the streets. A lofty enthusiasm had taken the place of 
fear ; and women were seen plying the spade, and work- 
ing at the fortifications — even young children toiled on 
beside their mothers ; and delicate hands vied with each 
other in the patriotic work. All day long the streets 
echoed with the heavy blows of workmen, and tread 
of marching men; and everything foret'M a bloody 
resistance. 

But while London was in this state of excitement, not 



1642.] BATTLE OF EDGE II ILL. 57 

far off, in Warwickshire, the first act of the great tra- 
gedy had begun. 



BATTLE OF EDGEHILL. 

Essex, leaving behind him several of his regiments, 
and among them that of Hampden, and a part of his 
artillery, pressed on after the king. For ten days the 
rear of the royal columns and the van of Essex's were 
only a few leagues apart, yet in mutual ignorance of 
each other's movements. At length the latter overtook 
the king near Keynton, and formed his troops at the 
foot of an eminence called Edgehill. Charles immedi- 
ately turned on his pursuers ; and on the 23d of October 
the two armies drew up in front of each other in battle 
array. It was Sunday, and many of the Puritan officers 
were on their way to church, when messengers, galloping 
along the road, called them back to the field. It is a 
curious fact, that the Puritans preferred the Sabbath 
above all other days on which to fight their battles. 
This shows how sacred they viewed their cause, and 
how certain they were of the smile of heaven. 

During the whole forenoon the different commanders 
were busy in arranging the order of battle. Here the 
squadrons of cavalry stood in shining ranks, their hel- 
mets glittering in the noon-day sun — and there moved 
the dark masses of infantry. About two in the after- 
noon the long roll of the drum was heard, and the 
solid ranks began to advance. The artillery opened its 
fire, the infantry went pouring to the charge with deaf- 
3* 



58 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ening shouts, and that green spot in Warwickshire was 
wrapt in clouds of smoke, and shook to the tread of 
nearly forty thousand men. At length the bugles rang 
along the hitherto silent squadrons of the parliamentary 
cavalry, and the long lines of helmets rose and fell as the 
steel-clad mass went hurrying forward. But at this cri- 
tical moment a colonel, Sir Faithful Fortescue, separated 
himself with his regiment from the parliamentary force, 
and spurred across to the lines of the royalists. This 
defection, at the moment when the charge was to be 
made, paralyzed the advancing squadrons, and broke the 
shock ; for they did not know how many more regiments 
would follow this dastardly example, and desert in the 
very crisis of the conflict. Prince Rupert, however, 
and his fierce horsemen, hailed the desertion with shouts 
of applause : the next moment their bugles rang cheerily 
out, and they burst on the disheartened cavalry with 
such fury that the ranks of the latter were broken in the 
first onset, and the whole four thousand became a herd 
of fugitives, driving over the country — sabred down at 
every step by their relentless pursuers. Leaving the 
army to take care of itself, Prince Rupert and his men, 
intent only on slaughter and pillage, followed after the 
flying cavalry — chasing them for two miles along the 
road — and were stopped at last only by the columns of 
Hampden, hastening to the battle-field. The latter 
bringing his artillery to the front, and forming his men 
in close order, soon sent the headlong cavalier back. 

But while he had been following up his victory, the 
tide of battle had turned against the king. Undismayed 



1642.] THE KING DEFEATED. 59 

by the defeat of their cavalry, the parliamentary infantry 
charged the royalists with such resolution that their 
ranks were shattered and broken ; and Rupert returned 
only to see the king's standard in the hands of the 
enemy, and the Earl of Lindsey, the commander-in-chief, 
mortally wounded, and a prisoner. From two o'clock 
till night-fall, had it flamed and thundered there, at the 
foot of Edgehill ; and now Rupert, as he reined his foam- 
covered steed up beside the king, told him the day was 
not yet wholly lost — one more charge, and it would be 
won. But it was in vain they called on the squadrons 
to charge again, for the king and the throne. The 
horses were jaded out — the ranks broken — soldiers were 
calling after their officers, and officers after their sol- 
diers ; and all was confusion and wreck there, on the 
trodden and dead-covered field, while Essex had a strong 
resen ■» still in complete array, in the distance. 

Darkness at length wrapt the scene, and silence fell 
on the plain, and both armies lay down amid the dead 
and wounded, to wait for the morning sun to light them 
again to the strife. 

At daybreak the anxious king arose and surveyed the 
wreck of his army — a third of its number was gone ; 
some dead, others wounded ; and others still, famished 
with hunger and cold, had fled to their homes. He wish- 
ed to renew the fight, so as to advance on London, but 
dat ^d not. risk an engagement. 

At the council held in the parliamentary camp in the 
morning, Hampden, Holies, and Stapleton, and others,, 
wished to make one more charge on the king's forces 



60 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

The fresh regiments they said would advance cheerfully 
to the conflict, while the royal troops, dispirited and 
reduced, would be easily broken. But some of the old 
officers, bound down by continental rules, opposed this 
opinion ; declaring that the raw recruits had fought one 
glorious battle, and it was expecting too much to suppose 
they would fight another so soon. Besides, London was 
saved, and it was unwise to risk all in another engage- 
ment. This tame and miserable council prevailed, and 
the two armies separated — the king establishing his head- 
quarters at Oxford. 

This was Cromwell's first fight — he was in the cav- 
alry, which, broken at the charge of Rupert's horsemen, 
had turned in affright over the field. How he bore him- 
self in the struggle, we have no account ; but judging of 
his actions from his character and after career, troop 
sixty-seven found, in that day's overthrow, that tb y had 
a gallant leader. 

His conversation with his cousin Hampden about it 
afterwards, shows with what bitter feelings he remem- 
bered his discomfiture ; while the bold resolution he 
took and carried out, to raise a body of horsemen of 
his own selection, proves that he, on that day, was one 
of the sternest and steadiest in the fight. Speaking of 
the superiority of the royalist cavalry, he said, " How 
can it be otherwise : your horse are, for the most part, 
superannuated domestics, tapsters, and people of that 
sort; theirs are the sons of gentlemen — men of quality. 
Do you think such po«)r vagabonds as your fellows have 
soul enough to stand against gentlemen full of resolution 



1642.] THE IRONSIDES. 61 

and honor ?" " You are right," replied Hampden ; " but 
how can it be helped ?" " I can do something towards 
it," answered Cromwell, " and I will : I will raise men 
who have the fear of God before their eyes ; men who 
will bring some conscience to w T hat they do ; and I pro- 
mise you they shall not be beaten." 

Carrying out this resolution, he, the next winter, form- 
ed the nucleus of that famous body of horse which, at 
the battle of Marston Moor, received the name of " Iron- 
sides." He chose for it wealthy farmers, and the sons ol 
farmers — men to whom wages were no object, and who 
fought for conscience sake alone. Stern religionists, like 
himself, he had no occasion to deceive them by holding 
out false motives. He said to them frankly, " I do not 
wish you to believe, as my commission has it, that you 
are going to fight for the king and parliament; for if the 
king were before me I would as soon shoot him as 
another : if your conscience will not allow you to do as 
much, go and serve elsew r here." He thus got around 
him a body of men who scorned idleness and pleasure ; 
and submitting cheerfully to his rigid discipline, bore pri- 
vations and toils without a murmur, nay, with enthusias- 
tic pride, for often their gallant leader slept beside them 
on the cold earth, and shared all their hardships. Fight- 
ing under the special protection of heaven, and for God 
and religion, they would rush to battle as to a banquet, 
and embrace death with rapture. Here were Napoleon's 
famous cuirassiers of the Imperial Guard, under whose 
terrible charge the best infantry in the world went down. 
Borne tip, however, by a higher sentiment than glory, 



62 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

they carried in their charge greater power ; and this 
body of a thousand horse was never beaten. When with 
the fearful war-cry, "Religion," Cromwell hurled them 
on the foe, the tide of battle was always turned. As a 
proof of their religious sincerity, it need only be said 
that they chose Richard Baxter for their chaplain, who 
declined; but said subsequently, if he had known that all 
the fire was in that one spark, he would have accepted, 
and endeavored to prevent the after conflagration. 

To return to the course of events immediately after 
the battle of Edgehill; while Essex watched the king, 
w T ho still held his quarters at Oxford, Rupert, with 
his desperate troopers, ravaged the country, pillaging and 
destroying — bolcUy dashing up to the outskirts of London. 
In the meantime, negotiations were re-opened with the 
king. While they were pending, Charles, w r ith his usual 
perfidy, advanced on London, and arriving at Brentford, 
within seven miles of the city, fell with his whole force 
on Holies' regiment quartered there. But this gallant 
little band held their ground so firmly that Hampden and 
Lord Brook had time to arrive with their regiments, be- 
fore it gave way. The latter, hurrying on their columns 
with shouts to the attack, checked the victorious royal- 
ists, and hour after hour withstood the whole weight of 
the king's army. The cannonading was heard in Lon- 
don, where an armistice had been resolved upon, and 
was mistaken for distant thunder. But Essex, who was 
in the House of Lords at the time, no sooner heard the 
du!l and heavy explosions, than his practised ear knew 
full well their meaning, and calling for his horse, sprang 



1642. the king's perfidy. 63 

into his saddle, and putting himself at the head of what 
force he could instantly muster, sallied forth. He ar- 
rived in time, however, only to find those regiments 
broken and repulsed, and the king's troops occupying 
Brentford. 

London was filled with terror and rage at this new 
act of perfidy on the part of the king ; and believing that 
he was now bent on storming the city, made desperate 
eftorts to raise an army. Volunteers began to assemble 
from every part of the town in crowds ; the city itself 
voted four thousand of its enrolled militia, and appointed 
Skippon their commander. This brave and heroic man 
put himself at their head, saying, " Come, my boys, my 
brave boys, let us pray heartily and fight heartily. I 
will run the same fortunes and hazards with you. Re- 
member the cause is for God, and for the defence of 
yourselves, your wives and children. Come, my honest 
and brave boys, pray heartily and fight heartily, and 
God will bless us." All that day and night this enthu- 
siastic yet motley army was filing out of the city, fol- 
lowed by parliament and crowds of men and women ; 
and two days after the king's attack on Holies' regi- 
ment, Essex reviewed twenty-four thousand men on 
Turnham-Greem The king's outposts were in sight, 
and a bloody battle was momentarily expected. Hamp- 
den, with his usual boldness, advised an immediate at- 
tack, but the majority of the officers were against it, 
and the king was allowed to return and take up his 
vvinler quarters at Oxford. 

Negotiations were again opened between him and 



04 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

parliament, and the war around the centre of operations 
languished. But in the country it was different. As- 
sociations were formed in every part, either for the king 
or parliament, and commissions granted them to raise 
troops and appoint officers. Of these associations the 
Eastern, embracing the counties of Norfolk, Suffolk. 
Essex and Hertz,* was the chief one for parliament — in- 
deed the only one that survived and flourished. Lord 
Grey commanded here, but Cromwell was the principal 
actor. These associations kept up during the wintei 
the war which was suspended between the main armies. 
Rupert rode over the country with his troopers, plun- 
dering and destroying; and small detachments fre- 
quently came in collision, with various success. 

It was during this winter, 1642-3, that Cromwell en- 
rolled, as before stated, his Ironsides. Riding hither and 
thither, to collect troops and repel invasion, the hidden 
energy of the man began to develop itself, and his amaz- 
ing practical power to be felt. He was everywhere 
present, rallying the true-hearted, punishing the disaf- 
fected, breaking up royalist assemblages, and carrying off 
royalists' plate. 

Early in the spring, we find him called Colonel Crom- 
well, though the date of his appointment is not known. 
He was at Cambridge on the first of March, the rendez- 
vous appointed for the adherents of parliament enlisted 
during the winter. Soon finding himself surrounded 
with a large for* e, he compelled Lord Capel, who had 
been threatening Cambridge, to retire. In St. Albans 

* Other counties afterwards came in. 



1643.] ATTACK ON LOWESTOFF. 65 

the High Sheriff endeavored to execute the "commis- 
sion of array " of the king on market day ; but in the 
midst of his duties, though surrounded by a strong body 
guard, he was suddenly charged by Cromwell's troopers, 
who took him prisoner, and hurried him off to parliament 
to answer for his acts. " ' Commissions of array/ are 
not handy to execute in the Eastern Association at pre- 
sent."* In this same month, while at Norwich, he was 
informed that the town of Lowestoff was fortifying it- 
self; and the next morning, before daylight, was off with 
his troops. Forming a junction with the Yarmouth 
volunteers, who had five pieces of cannon with them, 
he boldly advanced on the town, and summoned it to 
surrender. But the inhabitants refused, and blocked 
themselves in. Not an opening was left except where 
three cannon were placed to fire on the assailants, while 
in front of these a strong chain was stretched to keep 
off the dragoons. Nothing daunted, the dragoons dis- 
mounted, and crawling under the chain, advanced to 
within pistol-shot of the cannoniers, and aimed their 
pistols at their heads. The latter immediately turned 
and fled, and the dragoons, breaking asunder the chain, 
mounted their horses and dashed into the town. 

FIGHT AT GRANTHAM. 

In May of this same year, 1643, Cromwell advanced 
on Lincolnshire, which was overrun by the Marquis of 
Newcastle's army. With his twelve troops, some eight 

* Vide Carlyle. 



60 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

hundred horse in all, scattering everything before him, ha 
came in sight, on the evening of the thirteenth, of a body 
of cavalry, nearly double in number to his own. But 
though wearied with his long march, and opposed by 
such an overwhelming force, he nevertheless boldly re- 
solved on an immediate attack. The disparity of the 
respective forces was increased still more by the miser- 
able horses on which many of Cromwell's men were 
mounted. He had not as yet obtained for them those 
noble and high-blooaed animals, which afterwards made 
the charge of the ironsides so resistless. 

Cromwell, however, drew up his squadrons in order 
of battle, about two miles from the town. It was a 
spring evening — the country was in full verdure, and 
the long shadows cast by the declining sun, slept tran- 
quilly on the green sward beside the troopers. At first, 
the dragoons, on both sides, stood off at long musket 
shot, and fired at each other for half an hour. Crom- 
well becoming impatient, and finding that the enemy 
had no intention of charging him, ordered the trumpets 
to sound along his lines. Passing from a walk to a rapid 
trot, they, at the shout of their leader, fell upon the royal- 
ists with such resolution, that they rode straight through 
their ranks, and routing them, hewed them down with 
their sabres for two miles. 

About this time, also, the parliamentary forces under 
Sir William Waller, in the south and west, scattered 
the royalists, taking seven towns in succession, which 
awakened such enthusiasm that he was styled, "William 
the Conqueror."' 



1643.] FIGHT AT GAINSBOROUGH. 67 

Never idle, Cromwell, in the meanwhile, kept scour- 
ing the country. He raised the siege of Croyland — ■ 
took Stamford, and driving the cavaliers before him 
into Burleigh House, closely invested it. Opening all 
his cannon upon it, he no sooner made a breach in the 
walls, than he gave orders for the assault. At three 
o'clock in the morning, the signal was given, and storm- 
ing over those strong defences, he swept them like a 
hurricane. 

FIGHT AT GAINSBOROUGH. 

Hardly giving his little army time to breathe, he next 
advanced on Gainsborough — being reinforced on the 
w r ay, by several troops of horse from Nottingham and 
Lincolnshire. This town was held by Lord Willoughby, 
in the name of the parliament, but Lord Newcastle, with 
his whole army was rapidly advancing upon it. The 
queen having returned from Holland in February, with 
soldiers, ammunition, &c, had co-operated with New- 
castle, who, after having been gallantly withstood, for 
awhile, by Fairfax, at length overthrew him at Atherton 
Moor ; and following up his victory, was on the point of 
wresting the whole of Lincolnshire from Lord Wil- 
loughby. 

It was this news that brought Cromwell and his 
riders so swiftly over the country. With that sud- 
denness and daring which characterized him, he threw 
himself between the advance division of Newcastle, 
commanded by General Cavendish, and the town. Driv- 
ing before him a troop of a hundred horse, he came in 



(58 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

sight of the enemy, strongly posted on a steep hill, at thje 
base of which ran a high fence, with only one gateway 
leading to the summit. It was a spectacle that might 
have daunted even a bolder heart than Oliver's; for, 
independent of the strength of their position, the enemy 
outnumbered him three to one, while on this single gate- 
way was kept up a constant and destructive fire. 
Cromwell, however, shouting to his men to follow, spur- 
red fearlessly into the gap. Inspired by his daring, they 
plunged after — and as they filed through behind him, he 
formed them by sections, and gallantly charging up hill 
tnrough the cloud of skirmishers that obstructed his way, 
gained the summit. Reining in his steed and casting 
his eye over the plateau, he surveyed at a glance the 
whole extent of the danger before him. Near by, in 
close array, stood the dark and overwhelming squad- 
rons of the enemy, while in the rear, was a full regiment 
of horse in reserve. Intending to crush Cromwell be- 
fore he could form his troops, Cavendish gave the order 
to charge. Not waiting, however, to receive the shock, 
Oliver ordered his trumpets to sound, and summon- 
ing his followers on, fell with enthusiastic shouts on the 
advancing squadrons. The shock was firmly met — and 
horse to horse, and hand to hand, with pistol shot and 
sabre stroke, they strove for the mastery ; while over all, 
rose the war-cry of the Puritans, and the rallying shout 
of the royalists. At length, the latter began to yield, 
when, spurring in upon them, Cromwell broke their 
ranks asunder, and scattered them over the field. With 
that quick perception, however, and great self-command. 



1037.] THE VICTORY. 09 

whish distinguished him as a leader, he instant y detect- 
ed the threatening aspect of the still unbroken reserve of 
Cavendish, and as quickly prepared for its onset. Foui 
troops of the Lincolners were all that were left on the 
field to meet this fresh force, and knowing that they 
must go down at the first charge, he ordered Whalley to 
sound a recall and rally to his troops; and arresting two 
troops of his own men in their career, let the flight 
and pursuit pass on, and wheeled in the rear of the en- 
emy. He was hardly in charging order, before Caven- 
dish fell on the Lincolners in front, with such strength, 
that they were utterly routed. The next instant, the 
bugles of Cromwell rung out, and charging like fire with 
his three troops on the victorious royalists, he forced 
them to the verge of the hill and over it. Breaking 
down the steep declivity, the terror-stricken fugitives 
fled over the field, smote at every step by the swords of 
the Puritans. Cavendish himself, plunging into a mo- 
rass in his hasty flight, was overtaken and slain. 

The defeat was total, and Cromwell marched in 
triumph into the place and relieved it. Hearing of a 
large force in another direction, he sent out his men, who, 
instead of finding a regiment or two, unexpectedly came 
upon the whole of Newcastle's army. Hastening to their 
relief, Cromwell, by a skilful and masterly retreat, suc- 
ceeded, however, in bringing them off safely. But his 
force was too small to hold the town — and notwithstand- 
ing his gallant and daring attempt to save it, he was 
compelled to retire before the advancing columns of the 
enemv. 



70 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

" In the very hour while Cromwell was storming the 
sand hills near Gainsborough, " by some tracks," hon- 
orable gentlemen at St. Stephen's were voting him 
governor of the isle of Ely. Ely, in the heart of the 
Fens, a place of great military capability, is much 
troubled witl "corrupt ministers," with "corrupt train- 
bands," and understood to be in a perilous state, where- 
fore they nominate Cromwell to take charge of it." # 

DEATH OF HAMPDEN. 

But while success was thus attending the arms of 
Cromwell in the Eastern Association, fortune frowned 
on the cause of parliament in other parts of England : 
for, added to the defeat of Fairfax, and overthrow of 
Waller, came the untimely death of the brave, the noble 
Hampden. Operating with the army of Essex, which 
watched that of the king, he in a skirmish, on Sunday, 
with Rupert's cavalry, near Chalgrove field, was mor- 
tally wounded. Though a colonel in the army, he put 
himself at the head of a small detachment, and despite 
the remonstrances of his friends, and the overpowering 
numbers of the enemy, charged into their midst with 
his accustomed gallantry. Struck by a brace of bul- 
lets between the shoulders, he turned his horse out of the 
fight. He was seen slowly leaving the field, before the 
action was over, " with his head hanging down, and rest- 
ing his hands upon the neck of his horse." He first mov- 
ed away towards his father-in-law's house, at Pyrton, bu' 

* Vide Carlyle, p. 141. 



1643.] DEATH OF HAMPDEN. 71 

his fading eye catching the cloud of Rujert's cavalry 
covering the field, he turned his horse, and rode across 
the country towards Thame. Coming to the edge of a 
brook, he stopped and reeled in his saddle, then sum- 
moning all his energies, drove Ids spurs into his steed, 
and cleared the ravine at a single leap. He, at length, 
reached Thame, fainting with the loss of blood, where 
his wounds were dressed. He lingered six days in 
great pain, spending all his time in dictating letters to 
parliament, urging on them those plans which his far- 
seeing mind knew to be indispensable to success, and 
which the- indolence and dilatoriness of the commander 
in-chief had hitherto rendered abortive. But his final 
hour drew nigh, and partaking of the last sacrament, he 
poured forth his soul in prayer. Even in that solemn 
hour, the patriot plead more for his country than for 
himself. His choked and difficult utterance gave vent 
to such expressions as "O Lord, save my bleeding 
country. Have these realms in thy special keeping. 
Confound and level in the dust those who would rob the 
people of their liberty and lawful prerogative. Let the 
king see his error, and turn the hearts of his wicked 
counsellors from the malice and wickedness of their 
designs. Lord Jesus, receive my soul." He then 
paused, and as the death-rattle was gathering in his 
throat, mournfully exclaimed, " O Lord, save my coun- 
try. O Lord, be merciful to" ** # * — the sentence was 
never finished, and falling back, his spirit fled to abettei 
world. 

With arms reversed, muffled drums, and banners 



72 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

hung in crape, his faithful and stricken soldiers fol- 
lowed him to his grave amid the woods of the Chil- 
terns, singing mournfully as they went, the ninetieth 
Psalm: " Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling-place in all 
generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, 
or ever Thou hadst formed the earth and the world, 
even from everlasting to everlasting, Thou art God. 
Thou turnest man to destruction ; and sayest, return, ye 
children of men. ### Thou carryest them away as 
with a flood ; they are as a sleep ; in the morning they 
are like grass which groweth up." **** Firing the 
last volley over his grave, they marched slowly back, 
singing the forty-third psalm. Sternly and sadly 
rolled along their lines, " Judge me, O God, and plead 
my cause against an ungodly nation : Oh, deliver me 
from the deceitful and unjust man. For Thou art the 
God of my strength : why dost Thou cast me off^ 
why go I mourning because of the oppression of the 
enemy ?" ** # * 

Could one have heard that solemn hymn, he would 
not charge those brave yet melancholy men with hypo 
crisy. Not over imaginary wrongs did the dying 
Hampden pour his departing soul — not in miserable 
cant did his bereaved soldiers chant the psalms of David 
as they bore him to his last resting-place. 

Thus died the immortal Hampden, shot on his fiftieth 
birth-day. Pure in heart ; just in judgment ; cautious, 
yet daring ; peaceful, yet brave ; calm, yet resolute and 
firm , given to no outbursts of passion ; provoked by no 
wrong to malice ; swerved by no oppression from his 



1643. J TROUBLES IN THE PARLIAMENT. 73 

strict integrity; a true Christian; an incorruptible 
patriot, and a noble man, the soil of England covers no 
better dust ; and liberty mourns no more spotless a mar- 
tyr. With what feelings Cromwell received the news 
of the death of his cousin, we know not. But when he 
remembered how many such men had been sacrificed to 
gratify the pride, the miserable ambition of a tyrannical 
king, no wonder, at the last, he felt no misgivings when 
he saw his head roll on the scaffold. 

During this summer, parliament struggled in a sea of 
difficulties. For not only were its armies defeated at 
almost every point, and the friends of liberty struck 
dumb by the death of Hampden, on whom the chief 
hopes were placed ; but a conspiracy against itself was 
discovered, in which Edmund Waller, the poet, was 
one of the principal actors. Pardoning the treacher- 
ous, whining and cowardly poet, as it would a state 
witness, it executed two of his companions, and the plot 
was rendered innocuous. 

The successes of the royalists, coming on the top of 
tnis plot, more than counterbalanced the news of Crom- 
well's succcess, which soon after reached parliament. 
The House of Lords and Commons became divided — 
Essex was idle ; demanding money, clothes, ammunition 
and arms, for his soldiers — the queen had joined the 
king, bringing reinforcements of cannon and of men : 
and the heavens began to brighten over the head of the 
besotted Charles. Taking courage at this change in the 
aspect of affairs, he issued a proclamation, declaring that 
the parliament assembled at Westminster was no parlia- 
4 



74 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ment at all ; and forbade all his subjects to obey that 
"band of traitors." This foolish act immediately re- 
stored union between the two houses; and on July 
5th, they voted to send commissioners to Scotland 
to ask its aid. Peace was restored in London ; and 
every morning, at the beat of the drum, the citizens — 
men, women, children, the old and young — repaired vol- 
untarily to the fortifications, and there worked till night- 
fall. 

But while the commissioners were on the way to 
Scotland, the king coming to his senses issued a milder 
proclamation. The House of Lords, sick of the hor- 
rors of civil war, then sent proposals more moderate 
than had heretofore been presented. The war party 
in the House of Commons, seized with fear, strain- 
ed every nerve to defeat this project. Tumult was 
again abroad; and at length, on the 9th of August, 
a mob of three thousand women, which by noon 
had increased to five thousand, assembled around the 
House of Commons, demanding, with loud cries, that 
the proposals of peace made by the House of Lords 
should be adopted. They penetrated even to the door of 
the hall, shouting, "peace! peace!" The guard of 
militia forced them back down stairs, firing a few shots 
over their heads. L T nintimidated, however, they cried 
out, " it is only powder," and began to hurl stones at the 
soldiers. The latter then fired point blank upon them, 
while a squadron of horse charged into their midst. 
Making a lane for the cavalry to pass, these maddened 
women shouted forth curses and hailed blows on the 



1C43.] MOB OF WOMEN. (5 

riders. For a *ew moments, it was a scene of wild and 
fearful tumult — swords flashed over dishevelled locks, 
and the strong war-horse pushed against the tender 
breast of woman. But at length terror took the place of 
passion, and they fled, leaving two of their number dead 
in the street, and some six or eight more lying beside 
them, wounded and weeping. 

The war party triumphed, and many of the lords re- 
tired from parliament, refusing to take farther part in its 
proceedings. Harmony w r as restored, and vast prepara- 
tions were immediately set on foot to renew the war. 
By the 24th of August, Essex found himself at the head 
of 14,000 men, and immediately departed for Glouces- 
ter, which the king had been blockading for a fortnight. 
On the 5th of September, he drew up his army on 
the heights of Presburg, five miles from Gloucester, 
and in sight of the king's camp. Charles, who, after 
having in vain attempted to reduce this gallantly defend- 
ed place, had devastated the surrounding country, now 
hastily set fire to his quarters and retreated. Essex en- 
tered the town, the 8th of September, and two days after 
turned his steps back towards London. Rupert, how- 
ever, with 5,000 horse, dashed across the country, and 
falling on the rear of his army, made havoc for awhile, 
but was at length beaten back. Still he continued to 
hang threateningly on its flanks — thus impeding its 
march, until the king, who, bent on redeeming his 
error, had got in front, and was prepared to dispute the 
further advance of Essex. On the 19th of September, 
the earl, on approaching Newbury, found his way 



76 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

blocked by the whde royal army, drawn up in good 
order, upon commanding heights. A battle was now 
unavoidable, and he pitched his camp within sight of 
the enemy's lines. 

BATTLE OF NEWBURY. 

It was a bright starlit night, and those two hosts la} 
down upon the dewy grass with their arms in their 
hands. The next morning, at daybreak, drum and 
trumpet called the Puritans to arms, and Essex ordered 
a charge on the principal height. It succeeded, and 
when the unclouded sun mounted the heavens, its flash- 
ing beams fell on a sulphurous and agitated cloud, amid 
which, and over which, glittered steel points and bur- 
nished helmets, in endless confusion. It was a hot day, 
and many of the royalist leaders threw aside their doub- 
lets, and led their men to the charge in their shirt 
sleeves. Amid the thick smoke, Rupert's masses of cav- 
alry went plunging on, disregarding alike the broken and 
hilly field, and the serried pikes of the infantry. With 
the highest chivalric feeling on the one side, and reso- 
lute determined bravery on the other, the battle was 
terrific. Neither party would give way. Conspicuous 
with his white hat, Sir Philip Stapleton did wonders — 
now leading up the parliamentary cavalry, and now 
steadying the raw militia, and infusing his own daring 
into the troops. Rupert, who had hitherto found no in- 
fantry able to sustain the shock of his cavalry, flung him- 
self again and again on the raw train-bands of London 
This was their first battle, but instead of showing terror, 



1643.] BATTLE Or NEWBURY. 77 

with their pikes advanced, they received every charge 
with the cool resolution of veterans. On came the 
thousands of Rupert's horse, yet those pike points nevei 
wavered, while a rolling volley emptied the saddles with 
frightful rapidity. Three times did this maddened and 
desperate cavalier throw himself on those raw r recruits 
and yet each time those ranks of blue hurlea him 
back. Thus, through the fresh and dewy morning, past 
the hot noon, till deep twilight, the battle raged. 

At last, the firing ceased ; and the recall of the 
trumpets alone was heard, save when a single cannon 
now and then shook the field. On the ground where 
they had struggled — amid the dead and dying — the two 
tired armies lay down to sleep. The next morning, at 
daybreak, Essex again prepared for battle, but no enemy 
was in sight. In the night, the dispirited royalists had 
retreated, leaving the road open to London. The en- 
raged Rupert still hung upon the rear of the republicans, 
but he could not impede their march. 

This battle raised high again the hopes of the patriots. 
The king had been defeated with the loss of some of the 
most gallant spirits in his army ; four lords had fallen on 
the field which they had struggled with the exposure of 
the meanest soldier to win ; and among them the young 
and gallant Falkland.* 

* This young nobleman was distinguished for his learning, probity 
and wisdom. At the age of twenty, coming into the possession of a 
large fortune, he had used it wisely, and fitted himself by study and 
travel for the highest, station. But at the commencement of the war 
he became moudy ; doing nothing in parliament until negotiation* of 
peace were entered on ; when he would immediately become mere 



78 OLIVER C1JMWELL, 

On the 25th of September, Essex entered London, 
and was received with acclamations by the people, while 
solemn thanks were decreed him by both Houses of 
Parliament. 

While affairs had thus been going on in and around 
parliament, but little of note had occurred in the Eastern 
Association. The Earl of Manchester, the former Lord 
Mandevil, whose oppression of the tenants of the 
Queen's Manor, Cromwell, according to Clarendon, 
opposed with such violence and passion in the com- 
mittee appointed by parliament to settle the difficulty, 
was given the command, with Cromwell under him, as 
one of his four colonels. The latter soon became 
second in command, and was busy in raising recruits 
and disciplining his troops. Requiring his regiment 
to have good horses, and keep them well, and their 
arms well burnished, and punishing profanity and 
drunkenness by fines, he established such order among 
them, that they, at length, became the elite of the army. 
Sharing all their toils and privations, he at the same 
time won their affection and confidence, and could 
carry them steadily even to the cannon's mouth. 

erect and vigorous, and exceedingly solicitous to press anything that 
might promote it ; and sitting among his friends, often after a deep 
silence and pregnant sigh, would, with a shrill and sad accent, ingemi- 
nate the word peace, peace. He said that the horrors of the war, and 
desolation of the kingdom " took his sleep from hin., and would shortly 
break his heart." This melancholy never left him except on the eve of 
battle ; when he became cheerful, and where the shot fell thickest, and 
the shock was heaviest, there he sought to be. He was thirty-three 
?ears of age when he fell. — Vide Clarendon, page 134 



1043.] LEAGUE AND COVENANT. 79 

The autumn of this year was distinguished by events 
which completely changed me aspect of affairs in Eng- 
land. The commissioners, one of whom was Sir Henry 
Vane, who had been sent to negotiate a treaty with the 
Scotch, had succeeded, and a "solemn league and 
covenant" been drawn up, which waited only the 
signature of parliament to be binding. The main arti- 
cle in this league was, that the two kingdoms should 
establish a common and uniform system of reformed 
religion, corresponding to that of the Scotch Church. 
Should the English parliament subscribe to it, Scotland 
bound herself to raise a powerful army, to act with the 
rebel forces against the king. The news of this trans- 
action carried alarm to the royalists, and the king 
immediately sent his commands to the Scotch, forbid- 
ding them to make such a covenant. Their reply had 
as much dry humor in it, as downright seriousness. 
They " humbly advised his majesty to take the covenant 
himself." 

On the 25th of September the members of parliament, 
together with the assembly of a hundred and twenty- 
one divines, to whom the covenant had been submitted, 
repaired to the church of St. Margaret, and with heads 
uncovered, and uplifted hands, took the oath, and 
afterwards signed their names to the compact.* 

After Cromwell, who had resumed his seat for awhile 
in parliament, for that purpose, had signed the league 

* The House of Lords had now become small in number, while that 
of the Commons was only about half of its original size, containing but 
two hundred and twenty members 



80 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

and covenant, he hastened back to Lincolnshire, to his 
resriment; where Manchester soon after arrived with 
7000 troops. At the same time, Sjt Thomas Fairfax, 
son of Lord Fairfax, joined him with a body of cavalry, 
with which he had escaped from Hull, then seriously 
threatened by Newastle. Henderson, a veteran officer, 
who commanded the royal posts in this quarter, was 
anxious to measure strength with Cromwell ; and hearing 
of his approach set out in search of him. 

WINCEBY FIGHT. 

By a skilful manoeuvre, he suddenly appeared, with a 
vastly superior force, before Cromwell and Fairfax; 
while Manchester, with the main army, was a day's 
march in the rear. It was Henderson's plan to crush 
this body of cavalry and dragoons, numbering between 
2000 and 3000, before the arrival of the main army, and 
he seemed now in a fair way to accomplish it. Crom- 
well himself was startled, as he saw the ghttering 
squadrons suddenly deploy, in great numbers, on 
Winceby field. His horses were fagged, worn down 
by the heavy marches of the last three days, and it was 
doubtful how they would stand the shock of a fresh and 
superior force. It was but a moment, however, that 
he hesitated — with his usual daring and confidence, he 
gave orders to prepare for battle. In an instant, all was 
joy and enthusiasm. Fairfax, catching the inspiration, 
exclaimed, " Come, let us fall on ; I never prospered 
better than when I fought aga'nst the enemy three or 



i643.] WINCED Y FIGHT. 81 

four to one." It was twelve o'clock of a fine October 
day, when the watchword, " Religion," ran along the 
squadrons of Cromwell. That of the royalists, was 
"Cavendish," who was slain at Gainsborough. At 
length, the bugles sounded through the Puritan host, 
and away dashed those fierce horsemen, shouting as they 
went. They charged in separate bodies ; falling in 
like successive waves upon the shore, and each singing, 
in tones of thunder, as it charged, a psalm of David. 
That lofty hymn pealed on over the deafening tramp of 
the squadrons and clatter of armor — the strangest sound 
that ever was heard on a battle-field. Cromwell led 
the foremost body, shouting, as he rode at the head of 
his squadron, " In the name of the Most High, charge /" 
A volley met them midway, but onward, through the 
smoke, still thundering forth that stirring psalm, they 
swept full on the head of the hostile column. At the 
moment of collision, another volley smote them, and 
Cromwell's steed sunk under him. Extricating himself 
from the struggling animal, he rose to his feet, but was 
immediately struck down by one of the enemy, who 
were now mingled in a hand-to-hand fight with his fol- 
lowers. In an instant, a body of horse closed around 
him. Stunned, but not wounded, he recovered himself, 
and seizing a soldier's horse, leaped into the saddle, 
and with a thrilling shout, dashed into the midst of the 
fight. Broken through and disordered, the first line of 
the enemy fell back on the reserve, which was also 
thrown into confusion; and in a half hour's time from 
the first charge, that noble array was scattered like chaff 
4* 



82 OLIVER CROM IV ELL. 

before the wind. The chase was kept ip for six miles, 
even to the gates of Lincoln. Along one lane, into 
which the fugitives were crowded, the carnage was 
frightful. The fields were covered with slain horses 
and men — more than 600 being killed outright, and as 
many more taken prisoners.* 

This brilliant victory closed the campaign of 1643, 
and the partizan leader, Cromwell, began to acquire a 
fame that even that of Essex and Fairfax could not 
overshadow. 

From this time on, the revolution became essentially 
a religious one. Strengthened by its alliance with Scot- 
land, parliament had but little fear that it would not be 
able to make successful head against the king. 

All the reforms demanded in the state, had now been 
obtained. Hitherto, nothing was needed to restore 
peace, except guarantees on the part of Charles, that he 
would adopt the changes that had been made, and pre- 
serve the liberties and rights already secured. By doing 
this, he could at any time have re-occupied his throne. 
But now, the subjects of church government and religious 
doctrine overcame all questions of state, agitating the 
kingdom from limit to limit, and widening the breach be- 
tween the people and their sovereign. To make mat- 
ters still worse, while parliament were negotiating with 
the Presbyterian Scotch, Charles had been signing a 
treaty of peace with the Catholic Irish; and only a few 
days before the ratification of the league and covenant, 

* Vide Scottish Dove, Oct. 13—20, 1613. cited in the Statesmen of 
the Commonwealth of England, page 13. 



RELIGIOUS SECTS. 83 

die news was received that the ten regiments sent to 
humble the Irish rebels, had been recalled. These two, 
so widely diverse acts, produced the greatest excite- 
ment throughout England; and "the Papist army," as 
that of Charles was called, was looked upon with still 
greater abhorrence. From the discussion of petitions 
of rights, grand remonstrances, taxation, and oppression, 
the national mind passed to that of church government, 
and metaphysical doctrines ; such as election, predesti- 
nation, and perfect freedom of conscience, in all reli- 
gious matters. 

The changes that followed the first step against 
religious oppression, were natural, and to be expected. 
After political reform, religious questions came up ; and 
the king and established church banding together, it 
was natural, if the revolution were successful, they 
should go down together, and a different political and 
religious government be adopted. Hence the former be- 
came a parliamentary government, and the latter a Pres- 
byterian church. The Scotch league and covenant, 
gave a still more definite form and organization to the 
church. But in a revolution every irregularity devel- 
opes itself — the restraints are taken off the mind — its 
old barriers are removed, and it is launched forth upon 
an unknown sea. Besides, reforms never stop where 
those who originate them expect. The very efforts and 
arguments which embolden men to question and reject 
authority they have long submitted to, teach them, also, 
to resist any or all authority which would fetter their 
rignts, and constrain their consciences. Henry the VIIL 



84 CLIVE. I CROMWELL. 

did not dream, that when he taught the people to reject 
the Church of Rome, they would, in time, sift the 
claims of the system he substituted for it ; nor did par- 
liament suppose, when they had freed the people from 
the Established Church, they would free themselves 
from a Presbyterian one. But reverence once de- 
stroyed, is not readily restored, and latitude once given, 
not easily limited again. By insisting on the right 
to think for themselves, leaders of reform persuade men 
to leave old and hard- worn ways, forgetting that when 
once out on the open common of free thought, they 
will make their own paths ; and not all the arguments 
and threats that may be used, can force them long into 
one track again. Reformers should remember this, 
when they lead men forth from the influences which 
have hitherto bound them, and bid them be free. 
The field into which they are first allured, may be rich 
and full of promise, but if surrounded with a single 
barrier, they will clear it, though it were heaven-high. 
Teach men to think for themselves in one case, and 
they will do it in another ; impart to them the blessings 
of liberty, and in their triumphant march they will crush 
everything that lays the least restraint upon it. It 
was so in England ; the people who foreswore allegiance 
to the Romish Church, and rejected the Established 
Church of England, finally crushed the Presbyterian 
Church. 

When each one is allowed to think for himself, men 
are sure not to think alike ; and there sprung up in Eng- 
land what is constantly seen here — numerous sects, each 



1 643 ] RELIGIOUS SECTS. 85 

strenuo is for its own peculiar tenets. There were the 
Independents, who, discovering at length that the Pres- 
byterians assumed to lord it over their consciences 
in the same way that the Established Church had done, 
repudiated it and the Scotch covenant together — de- 
manded more freedom of belief, and asked for the 
3ame republicanism in the church that was granted in 
the state. There were, also, Brownists, Anabaptists, and 
Levellers, who, whatever difference of creed might sepa- 
rate them, were simply religious radicals and jacobins — 
Fifth Monarchy men, who believed in the personal reign 
of Christ on earth to constitute the fifth monarchy — 
the Muggletonians, and many others, half sceptics, or 
unsettled in their belief. All these the natural growth 
of a revolution that had become religious, gradually 
concentrated their strength against the Presbyterians ; 
and Cromwell himself taking sides with the Indepen- 
dents, the army was ranged on their side ; and, in time, 
the army, as it always must in a revolution, ruled every- 
thing. 

We have thus carried forward the reader into the reli- 
gious history of the revolution, to save the trouble of 
referring to the origin and growth of the different sects, 
frequently, and at the same time give them the promi- 
nence they deserve in the politica 1 changes that follow. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE EXTRAORDINARY CAMPAIGN OF 1644. 

Execution of Laud and Others — Character of Laud — Defeat of the lush 
Regiments by Fairfax — The Scotch Enter England — Cromwell Joins 
them before York — The King Defeats Waller — Rupert Enters York — 
Battle of Marston Moor — Cromwell's Ironsides — Cromwell's Letter — 
Essex Defeated, and His Army Compelled to Surrender — Success of 
Montrose in Scotland — Second Battle of Newbury — Cromwell Ac- 
cuses Manchester in Parliament — Is Accused in Turn — Self-denying 
Ordinance — The Remodeling of the Army — Its Character. 

The winter of 1643 Cromwell spent in raising funds 
for his army, even levying on the colleges in Cambridge, 
and the cathedrals of Peterborough and Ely, and some- 
times according to the report of his enemies, in not a 
very gentle or legal way. He entered Ely cathedral one 
day when the clergyman was preaching against parlia- 
ment, and exclaimed aloud, "Leave off your fooling and 
come down, sir," which he dared not disobe}^ He was 
never idle, but strained every nerve, to be prepared for 
the ensuing campaign. 

For a short time in January, he took his seat in 
parliament, and made a speech against Lord Willough- 
by, whom he had so gallantly succored at Gainsbo- 
rough — complaining that he was backward in his military 
operations, and kept dissolute people about him, and 
asked that Lord Manchester might be appointed in his 



1644.] LAUD'S CHARACTER. 87 

place, which was granted. In the meantime, negotia- 
tions and plots were commenced and abandoned in and 
around parliament. Pym, one of the earliest and 
firmest of the patriots, died December 8th, and was 
mourned by the whole nation. 

A few minor, but still somewhat important, events oc- 
curred in the forepart of January, which it seems neces- 
sary to mention, before we enter on the stirring events of 
the year. The liturgy of the English Church was 
formally abolished, and the prosecutions long ago be- 
gan against Lord Macguire, the two Hothams, Sir 
Alexander Carew, and Laud, were taken up again — all 
ending equally fatally to the accused. The execution 
of these men showed the severity with which the 
revolution was to be carried on in future. The death 
of Laud was uncalled for. He had sufficiently expiated 
his crimes and follies, by four years imprisonment : — his 
favorite schemes no man now thought of realizing — 
his influence with the king was over, in fact, his careei 
ended. Stormy men were now in power, and a stormy 
spirit abroad, before whom and which such weak 
characters as his always disappear. No danger 
was to be apprehended from him, or at least none that 
banishment would not have effectually guarded against; 
and his death, therefore, was an unnecessary act of 
cruelty. Indeed, the charge of high treason was in no 
way made out, and he died a victim to that hatred and 
injustice he had himself nursed into such strength. He 
was nnocent of the crime charged upon him ; and yet, 
there was a retributive justice in his death He had un- 



88 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

settled the realm — opposed the parliament — oppressed 
and persecuted the people. Indeed, his very accuser, 
Prynne, was the one whose ears he had caused twice to 
be cut off in presence of the multitude. He had shown 
no mercy to others ; and now, none was shown to him. 
So, that while we condemn his judges, we cannot lament 
his fate. Still, Laud has probably been as much malign- 
ed as Cromwell. He was a bigot ; so were many of the 
Puritans, fanatics. The former persecuted the disseu- 
ters ; so did the latter the papists. Laud hurried men 
before the star-chamber and court of high commission, 
and had them punished for no crime but that of speak- 
ing against oppression ; nay, caused them to be put in 
the stocks, publicly whipped, and their ears cropped off: — 
equally violent measures were adopted by the Puritans 
against the Irish Catholics. Now, to allow for the 
intolerance of the one, and not for that of the other, is 
manifestly unjust. The age and the times in which 
men live, must be taken into consideration, when we 
judge of their characters. Laud was, doubtless, a 
sincere and honest prelate. He did what he thought 
was for the good of the church. Believing that it could 
not prosper in the midst of dissensions and radicalism, 
he set about their eradication in the way he thought 
best to secure his object. That he should see nothing 
but discord and ruin in the spirit of rebellion against 
the church and the state, that was abroad, was natural. 
There was no more bigotry in his looking upon dissent- 
srs as criminals, than in the Puritans regarding the 
papists as such. Thus, while we regard his career as 



1644.] LORD BYRON DEFEATED. 89 

mad and foolish in the extreme, we see in it notning so 
inconsistent as many do. His cruelties and persecu- 
tions indicate the weak bigot, rather than the unfeeling 
oppressor. 

On January 22d, a new parliament, assembled by the 
king, met at Oxford to repudiate the constitutional par- 
liament, but it never amounted to anything, and Charles 
was compelled to adjourn it in April, feeling that he 
had only added to his embarrassments. A treaty he 
endeavored to make with parliament and Scotland, was 
equally fruitless, while the regiments under Lord Byron, 
which he had recalled from Ireland — after six weeks 
of success — had been almost annihilated by Fairfax. 
Marching in the depth of winter, the latter came upon 
this "papist army," under the walls of Nantwich, in 
Cheshire, which the latter was closely besieging, and 
fell upon it with such fury, that out of 3000 infantry, 
only 1000 escaped. The notorious, and twice renegade, 
George Monk, was one of the captives. 

Thus commenced the terrible campaign of 1644, 
which in its progress was to deluge England with the 
blood of her children, and cover her fair fields with the 
slain. The Scotch army, 20,000 strong, and marching 
knee-deep in snow, crossed the English borders on the 
19th of January, moving steadily and sternly south. 
The parliament had at this time an immense force under 
its control. Essex and Waller, who commanded in the 
central and eastern counties, had each about 10,000 
men ; Manchester and Cromwell 14,000, while Fairfax 
was at the head of another strong army. To meet this 



90 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

formidable array, Charles had 10,000 men around his 
person at Oxford, 14,000 under Newcastle, while the 
royalist sections were covered with larger and smaller 
bands at his disposal, and Ireland stood ready to throw 
heavy reinforcements over the channel. 

The campaign opened in the spring with extraordi- 
nary exertions on the part of both the parliament and 
the king. The former had ordered Lord Fairfax to join 
his forces with those of the Scotch under Lord Leven. 
Defeating the royalists at Lilly, commanded by the 
governor of York, this able general kept steadily on 
his northern route, and effected his junction on the 20th 
of April. Lord Newcastle, commander-in-chief of the 
king's forces in those parts, was then compelled to shut 
himself up in York. The month before, Waller had 
gained a victory over Sir Ralph Upton, in Hampshire, 
and joining his forces to those of Essex, the two marched 
on Oxford, where the king lay. The queen, now seven 
months pregnant, besought with passionate tears and 
entreaties, and at length persuaded her husband to let 
her depart to Exeter, so as to escape the horrors of a 
siege. She left, and they never met again. 

In the meantime, Manchester and Cromwell, with their 
14,000 men, hurried across the country, and effected a 
junction with Fairfax and the Scotch army. The com- 
bined forces then moved on York, and laid close siege to 
it. Thus these two important cities, occupied by the two 
chief armies of the king, were surrounded by the parlia- 
mentary troops at the same time, and the crisis of the 
great struggle seemed to have come. All England was 



1644.] RETREAT OF THE KING. 91 

breathless with anxiety, and strong prayers ascended 
the heavens from Puritan hearts, that the cause of truth 
and freedom might triumph. 

The king, hemmed in by Waller and Essex, seemed 
fated to fall ; but by one of the most skilful manoeuvres 
executed on the side of the royalists during the whole 
war, he, on the night of the 3d of June, silently marched 
forth, and, passing unseen between the tw T o armies, 
reached Hanborough at daybreak, and from thence pro- 
ceeded rapidly to Worcester, and afterwards to Bewd- 
ley. While between the lotter places, he received a mes- 
sage from Newcastle, that unless relieved, he could 
hold out but a few weeks longer. Charles saw at once that 
the fall of York would secure his irretrievable ruin, for 
that immense northern army would immediately join 
Waller and Essex, already too strong for him, and pre- 
sent a force against which it would be hopeless to strug- 
gle. Sending, therefore, in great haste, to Rupert, who 
was dashing over Cheshire and Lancashire, in the south, 
to move with all speed to the relief of York, he turned 
his attention to Waller and Essex. After the retreat of 
Charles they separated, the latter moving westward, and 
the former, by rapid marches, throwing himself between 
the king and Shrewsbury, to prevent his advancing 
south to join Rupert. But no sooner did the king hear 
of the separation of the forces than he wheeled back to 
Oxford, and entered it just seven days after his de- 
parture. 

Smarting under the foolish chase he had been de- 
ceived into, Waller hastened back, and rather precipitate- 



92 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ly gave battle at Cropredy bridge, on the banks of the 
Charwel, where, after fighting gallantly, he was defeated 
with great loss. Charles then marched after Essex, who 
was besieging Exeter. But these minor events were 
suddenly forgotten in the exciting tidings from the north, 
of the great 

BATTLE OF MARSTON MOOR. 

Rupert, obeying the commands of the king, swept 
northward with an army of 20,000 men. The news of 
his approach had been received by the besiegers, and 
every precaution taken, and every effort made, to inter- 
cept his march. But taking advantage of his superior 
knowledge of the country, he, with that celerity and 
skill which distinguished him, made a wide detour to 
the right ; and while the combined armies were every 
moment expecting an attack, quietly and undiscovered, 
reached the gates of the town. The thunder of cannon 
and pealing of bells in York, announced, to their aston- 
ishment, that Rupert was actually entering the place. 
All night long, the inhabitants, intoxicated with joy, 
gave vent to their exultation in bonfires, illuminations, 
shouts, and ringing of bells, till the old towers of York 
shook to their foundations. 

Far different was the scene on Marston Moor; for 
doubt and despondency hung over the united hosts. All 
that long summer night, the voice of prayer and sad 
expostulation was heard in the army ; while the council 
of war which sat till day-break, was marked by the 



1644.] BATTLE OF MARSTON MOOR. 93 

most violent dissensions, adding still more to the dis- 
couragement of the soldiers. But at early dawn, Fairfax 
rode forth, resolved to abide the issue of an engagement. 
In a short time, the whole army was in motion, and 
by rapid evolutions, soon changed front ; so that, instead 
of facing westward, as it had done, to meet Rupert, 
it now looked towards York. 

Rupert, on his arrival, demanded that bottle should be 
immediately offered ; and overruling the more cautious, 
and wiser proposal of Newcastle, to wait for reinforce- 
ments that were hastening up, and also the effect of 
discordant counsel in the combined forces, hastily 
marched forth towards the republican army, eight miles 
distant, on Marston Moor. This was a large plain, well 
fitted for the meeting place of two great armies. The 
parliamentary troops, their line extending a mile and a 
half, were drawn up behind a large drain which trav- 
ersed the whole field, except on the extreme left, where 
a lane, passing between high banks and thorn bushes, 
cut it in two and opened on the level space beyond. 
Here Cromwell, with his terrible cavalry, was posted. 
The Scottish foot occupied the centre and composed the 
reserve ; while Sir Thomas Fairfax, with the Yorkshire 
cavalry and two Scotch regiments of horse, held the 
extreme right, supported by his brave father with his 
own infantry and two brigades of Scottish horse. In 
the rear of the army lay the scattered village of Long 
Marston, forming, with its stone cottages and garden 
walls and strongly enclosed orchards, an excellent point 
ffappm, in case of retreat. 



94 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Thus arranged, prayer was offered up at the head of 
each regiment, and exhortations made by the officers. 
Cromwell addressed his men — as was frequently his 
custom, as well as pray with them, on the eve of an 
engagement, — thus arousing them to that pitch of fiery 
enthusiasm, which so few military leaders have been 
able to impart to their followers. 

In the meantime, Rupert drew slowly on with his 
army of nearly 30,000 men. Soon the pike-points of the 
infantry were seen glittering over the low bushes that 
dotted the field in the distance ; and then the heads of the 
massive columns emerged into open view, while squad- 
ron after squadron of Rupert's splendid cavalry came 
winding over the open plain : — their long white plumes 
floating back over their gaily caparisoned steeds, 
and their shining armor reflecting the sunbeams with 
dazzling brilliancy. Behind, on a rapid trot, advanced 
the artillery, rumbling heavily- over the broken ground, 
while mounted officers, galloping about in every direc- 
tion, added still greater picturesqueness to the scene. 

On swept the host in all the splendor and pomp of 
dreadful war — their bugles sounding cheerily out, and 
their close and beautiful array foretelling a desperate 
struggle to ensue. When about a mile distant from the 
republican army, Rupert halted ; and a group of officers, 
advancing in front, unfurled the royal standard. As it 
shook its gorgeous folds in the evening breeze, " God 
save the King !" went up in a deafening shout ; and the 
trumpets hailed it with exultant blasts. At the same 
time the blue banner of the cover ant was unfurled 



1644.] BATTLE OF MAR&TON MOOR. 95 

"greeted by a stern and solemn acclamation, as different 
from the wild and animated clamor of the cavaliers, as 
is the deep and incessant booming of the ocean surf from 
the sharp keen explosions of a thunder storm."* 

Rupert took up his position opposite the parliamentary 
right, where Fairfax was stationed with his cavalry. 
It was now seven o'clock in the evening — the cannon 
had been playing since three — and the setting sun was 
almost on a level with the glittering plain, on which 
stood near 60,000 men in battle array. A short pause 
followed, during which the two hosts, waiting the signal 
to advance, gazed anxiously, almost breathlessly, upon 
each other. Then a mass of white cloud, hugsnncr the 
earth, rolled out in front of the royal force, followed by 
the flash and roar of artillery, and the great struggle 
commenced. Rupert dashing, with his usual impetu- 
osity, on Fairfax holding the right, after a short but fierce 
effort, routed him completely. In the centre the struggle 
between the infantry was awful. Wrapt in a cloud of 
smoke, amid which rang the clash of weapons, and 
shouts of men and roar of guns, the stout yeomanry of 
the two kingdoms fought with a stubbornness that the 
utmost gallantry of the cavaliers could not overcome. 
" The Scotch delivered their fire with such constancy 
and swiftness, it was as if the whole air had become an 
element of fire in the summer gloaming there." On the 
left, Cromwell with his strong Ironsides, stood for awhile 
and saw the infantry near him mowed down by the royal 
catteries; till, unable longer to view the havoc, he turned 

* Herbert. 



Of) OLIVER CRO M WELL. 

to his men, with one of those explosions of passion 
which made him so fearful in battle, and ordered them 
to charge. Clearing the ditch, he had scarcely formed 
on the open ground, when down came Goring's cavalry 
in a wild gallop. Receiving them, as the rock the waves, 
those Ironsides, with a shout, charged in turn, crushing 
the royal squadrons like shells beneath their feet; and 
falling on the artillerists, who were making such carnage 
in Manchester's infantry, sabred them at their pieces. 
They then rode leisurely back towards the ditch, as if 
they had only been executing a manoeuvre. At this mo- 
ment, word was brought Cromwell that the whole right 
wing of the army was routed ; and as the smoke lifted a 
moment before the breeze, he saw that it was true. 
Fairfax had been borne wounded from the battle ; and 
the enemy's cavalry careered, almost unchecked, through 
his broken and flying ranks. But from the rapid and 
crashing volleys in the centre, and the levelled pikes 
now advancing to the charge, and now forced back, 
he saw that it was yet unbroken. 

Twilight was now settling on the field, and Cromwell, 
for the purpose of relieving the left, where Rupert was 
dealing death amid the followers of Fairfax, ordered his 
squadrons to face to the left. Wheeling on his centre, 
he saw Rupert only a quarter of a mile distant, exe- 
cuting a similar manoeuvre to meet him ; and in a few 
moments these formidable masses of five thousand 
cavalry, stood face to face; — the plumed, the gay, the 
hitherto invincible, horsemen of Rupert on one side; and 
the stern Ironsides, clad in simple buff and strong grev 



1644.] cromwell's charge. 97 

steel, without a decoration on their good steeds, or a 
plume above their helmets, on the other. Ten thou- 
sand horses sweeping to the shock is, under any cir- 
cumstances, terrific ; but now, when two such leaders 
as the renowned and headlong Rupert, and the stern 
and steady Cromwell, were at their head, still more so. 
Each knew the temper of his antagonist ; and each 
resolved never to yield. 

At this critical moment, Cromwell saw a body of royal 
pikemen advancing to turn the Scottish centre, and ex- 
posing, in their hasty movement, their right flank to his 
horse. With that sudden inspiration which belongs to 
genius, he ordered a squadron to charge them at once, 
and, riding through their ranks, fall on Rupert's flank. 
Saying this, he gave the order to advance, and with his 
face blazing with excitement, shouted " Forward !" with 
a voice like a trumpet call. Rupert's five thousand horse, 
pressing hard after their leader's gay banner, fifteen feet 
long, and streaming in the wind, w T ere coming up in a 
plunging trot, shaking the earth as they moved, when 
down swept Oliver with his Ironsides like a rolling 
rock. The shock in the centre was terrible. Each 
refused to yield an inch ; and hand to hand, and blade to 
blade, the maddened thousands struggled in close en- 
counter, while the ringing of sabres on each other, and 
on steel armor, was heard above the trampling of steeds 
and shouts of men. It was then the detachment Crom- 
well had sent off did him good service. Falling on the 
naked flank of Rupert, it carried disorder through the 
ranks, while the steady bravery of those in front gradu- 
5 



98 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ally forced rents through the firm-set squadrons. At 
length, victory declared for Cromwell. Rupert's re- 
nowned cavalry were utterly broken ; yet, disdaining to 
fly, they rallied in separate bodies, and charged home 
with the energy of despair. Four times did Rupert, 
maddened by disappointment, and burning with rage, 
rally his own favorite regiment, and hurry them forward 
with an impetuosity and daring that deserved a better 
fate. But each successive time they rolled back from 
that iron host, thinned and wasted. Though wounded, 
Cromwell still kept his saddle ; and calling off, and 
reforming his own regiment, he fell on Rupert so resist- 
lessly, that he was borne backward over the field, and 
finally turned in flight, pursued by the Puritans" even 
to the gates of York. 

This decided the battle, for the reserve squadrons of 
parliamentary cavalry, coming up to the relief of the 
infantry, broke through the enemy, and soon swept 
the moor of the last vestige of opposition. It was 
now ten o'clock, and that field presented, in the dim 
starlight, a heart-rending spectacle. Five thousand 
slain outright, lay strewed around, while thousands of 
wounded filled the air with sad laments. And all those 
ghastly bodies were Englishmen — brothers, relatives 
and friends, who had mingled in the deadly strife : — ■ 
Englishmen slain, because a king would rule in obedi- 
ence to his pride, rather than the wishes and welfare of 
his subjects. And there they lay, all martyrs to princi- 
ple — the one for the divine right of kings — the other for 
civil liberty and the rights of conscience: /he proud 



1644. J THE VICTORY. 09 

royalist beside the resolute Puritan: "the plumed 
helmet embracing the strong steel cap, as they rolled on 
the heath together, and the loose love locks of the 
careless cavalier, drenched in the dark blood of the 
enthusiastic republican/ 5 * 

The fruits of this victory were 1500 prisoners, 10,000 
stand of arms, 25 cannon, and ammunition and stores 
in abundance. But the greatest victory was the tri- 
umph which the cavalry achieved over Rupert's famed 
horsemen. They had been broken for the first time, 
and Cromwell had done it. His men were ever after 
called Ironsides; for as no charge could break them, 
so no array was ever able to resist their onset. 

These Ironsides were stern religious men, who could 
sing psalms through their noses, and pray before going 
into battle ; and he who would walk over the tented 
field at evening, and listen to their nasal chantings, 
might deem himself in a conventicle of monks, and 
laugh at the thought of their being warriors ; but he who 
saw them with their helmets on — their sabres shaking 
above their heads, and their flashing eyes bent in wrath 
on the enemy, sweeping like a thunder-cloud to battle, 
would ever after tread softly about their prayer-meet- 
ings, and listen to their psalm-singing, like one who 
hears music around the lip of the volcano. 

This battle fixed Cromwell's rising fame, and men 
began to regard him as invincible ; — while the man who 
seemed born to be never beaten, obtained the unbound • 
ed confidence and love of the soldiers. 

* Vide Forster's Statesmen, 657. 

LOfC. 



100 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Thid finished the king in the western counties, and 
ost him half his kingdom. A nephew of Cromwell's 
fell in this battle. His son Oliver had doubtless fallen 
before, perhaps in the very first engagement — that of 
Edgehill. In writing to his brother-in-law, Col. Valen- 
tine Walton, announcing his son's death, he says, after 
speaking of the action, and giving God the glory of the 
victory : 



"Sir — God hath taken away your eldest son by a cannon shot. 
It brake his leg. We were necessitated to have it cut off, whereof 
he died. Sir, you know my own trials in this way : but the Lord 
supported me with this, that the Lord took him to the happiness 
we all pant for, and live for. There is your precious child, full of 
glory, never to know sin and sorrow any more. He was a gallant 
young man — exceedingly gracious. God give you His comfort. 
Before his death he was so full of comfort, that he could not ex- 
press it. ' It was so great above his pain.' This he said to us. 
Indeed, it was admirable. A little after, he said one thing lay 
upon his spirit. I asked him what that was % He told me it was, 
that God had not suffered him to be any more the executioner of 
his enemies. At his fall, his horse being killed with the bullet, 
and as I am informed, three horses more, I am told he bid them 
open to the right and left, that he might see the rogues run. Truly, 
he was exceedingly beloved in the army, of all that knew him. But 
few knew him ; for he was a precious young man, fit for God. 
You have cause to bless the Lord. He is a glorious saint in hea- 
ven ) wherein you ought exceedingly to rejoice. Let this drink 
up your sorrow ; seeing these are not feigned words to comfort 
you, but the thing is so real and undoubted a truth. You may do 
all things by the strength of Christ. Seek that, and you shall 
easily bear your trial. Let this public mercy to the church of God, 



1644.] ESSEX DEFEATED. 101 

make you :o forget ymir private sorrow. The Lord be youi 
strength : So prays 

"Your truly loving and faithful brother, 

"Oliver Cromwell." 

This letter exhibits both the kindness and sincerity ol 
Cromwell. He sympathizes with his afflicted relative, 
but bids him do as he evidently did, when he lost his 
son, "forget his private sorrows" in the welfare of his 
country. No man can read this letter and doubt that 
he considered the cause in which he was engaged, the 
cause of God, and felt his own life, and that of others, 
to be of small account, compared to its success. 

A fortnight after the battle, York capitulated. Ru- 
pert fled with his remaining troops towards Chester; 
and Newcastle, disgusted and discouraged, abandoned 
his country. The Scotch army subsequently separated 
from the parliamentarians, and moved north upon New- 
castle, to which it laid siege, and at length, in October, 
captured it. 

While these events were passing in the north, Essex, 
whom we left advancing westward, began to be sur- 
rounded with difficulties. At first victorious, dispersing 
the royalists in his path, and taking the towns of Wey- 
mouth, Barnstable, Tiverton, and Taunton, he at length 
resolved boldly to march into Cornwall. He expected 
the people to rally to his standard as he approached ; but 
they kept aloof, while the reinforcements he had demand- 
ed from Waller were withheld. In the meantime, the 
king closed rapidly on his rear, and finally cut him off 
from all assistance. This sealed the fate of Essex ; and 



102 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Charles sent emissaries to him, to persuade him to join 
the royal cause with his army. But the honor of the 
old noble was impervious, both to bribes and threats, 
and he sat sullenly down to abide the w T orst. Onset 
after onset was made, and each day brought a battle — 
but alas, no victory to the earl. Closer and closer drew 
the lines of the king about him, until, from the sur- 
rounding heights, the royalists looked down into his 
exposed camp. 

Thus encircled by his foes, he ordered Sir William Bal- 
four, commander of the cavalry, to cut his way through 
them ; while he, with the infantry, took up the line of 
march for the sea-coast. Favored by a dark night, and a 
fog, the cavalry passed between the two divisions of the 
royal army, and escaped ; but the foot, impeded by the 
rain and mud, and pursued, on the following day, by the 
king, found farther retreat hopeless, and resolved to ca- 
pitulate. The proud heart of Essex, however, would not 
witness this disgrace ; and so, taking only two officers 
with him, he fled to the sea-coast, and embarked in a ves- 
sel for Plymouth. The command then devolved on 
General* Skippon. This brave and heroic commander 
immediately called a council of war, and addressing the 
officers, told them, that their commander had left them ; 
but as the cavalry had succeeded in escaping, their 
case was not so desperate, and that, by a glorious effort, 
they might also cut their way through the ranks of the 
enemy. The same God, he said, who had protected the 
cavalry, was over them — at all events, it was " bet- 
ter to die with honor and faithfulness, than to live dis- 



1 644.] BATTLE OF NEWBURY. 1 03 

nonorable." But he spoke to dispirited men. The 
king proposed honorable terms which were accepted— 
and surrendering their artillery, ammunition, and arms, 
they marched sadly back over the ground they had so 
lately trod victorious. 

This was September 1st; and on the same day, Mon. 
trose, who had succeeded in raising troops in Scotland 
favorable to the king, and effected a junction with the 
Irish sent across by Antrim, obtained a victory over the 
republicans at Uppermuir. Eleven days after he gained 
admittance into Perth ; and taking Aberdeen by storm, 
spread terror even to the gates of Edinburgh. AH 
these successes coming together, compensated somewhat 
for the defeat at Marston Moor, and the king took cour- 
age and immediately marched on London. The parlia- 
ment, however, rapidly concentrated its forces on this 
point — Manchester and Cromwell came hurrying from 
the north — and by the middle of October a large army 
was in the field. Essex, though cleared from all blame 
in the loss of his army, and urged to take the command, 
resolutely refused ; and gloomy and despondent looked 
with a listless eye on the stirring scenes around him. 
The chief command then devolved on Manchester, 
who led his forces forth to Newbury, where the king 
lay entrenched. 

SECOND BATTLE OF NEWBURY. 

Like the battle of Edgehill and several other engage- 
ments, this took place on the Sabbath. The king's posi- 



10* OLIVER CROMWELL. 

tion was admirably chosen. One flank was protected bj 
the river Kennet, while a building called Doleman's 
House, with the villas, and hedges, and orchards near, 
furnished a strong covering to the troops, who had pro- 
tected themselves still more by throwing up embank- 
ments. To the north of this there spread out two open 
fields, in which the artillery and most of the cavalry were 
placed. Still farther on, was the village of Speen, and 
beyond it a heath protected by a work. Here, for two 
days, constant skirmishes took place between small de- 
tachments, with various success. 

At length, on Sunday morning, the 27th of October, 
just at day-break, a strong column of republicans moved 
down, and crossing the river, fell resolutely on the wing 
of the royal army ; — but, after a short struggle, it was 
rolled back with great slaughter. All day long the thun- 
der of artillery, or rattle of musketry, in various parts of 
the field, told where separate commands were meeting in 
conflict ; but at three o'clock, the dark masses of Waller's 
division were seen moving straight on the heath at the 
north, and in a few minutes the battle became general. 
Cromwell, as usual, commanded the cavalry, and it did 
not lessen his enthusiasm, or that of his followers, to 
know that it was the Sabbath on which they were to 
strike for God and the Church. Relying on his own ge- 
nius, like all great commanders, he overlooked the mere 
formal arrangement of opposing wing to wing, and cen- 
tre to centre ; and discovering a hill within musket range 
of the enemy's lines, behind which he could form his 
squadrons, he immediately ordered a movement in that 



1644.] CHARGE OF CROMWELL. Kjb 

direction. There, while the battle was raging all around, 
he arranged his troops into two columns, and, giving the 
order to advance, suddenly appeared on the summit, in 
full view of the enemy. As the dark masses, fringed 
with glittering steel, wound over the hill-top, all knew 
that a terrible blow was about to fall, but where, none but 
the stern eye of him who had planned it could see. A 
fierce cannonade at once opened the whole length of the 
lines, and in the intervals of the explosions came the 
sound of Cromwell's trumpets. The next moment the 
two columns divided — the one composed of twelve 
hundred horsemen, with Oliver at their head, came pour- 
ing in one wild torrent down the hill, shaking their sabres 
above their heads and singing psalms as they galloped. 
Falling on the firm-set ranks of the king with irresistible 
fury, they tore, shouting through them, while the blades 
that a moment before shone in the clear sunlight, were 
seen dripping with blood. The broken array divided, 
and the fugitives turned and fled, some for Dennington 
Castle, and others for the town. The other column, 
composed of foot, paused aw T hile to watch the course of 
Cromwell and his Ironsides, and as they saw them riding 
lown the enemy, they rushed with a shout upon Dole- 
man's House. Here the carnage was terrific. Forget- 
ting all danger, the excited republicans dashed on the 
strong works that surrounded it, and though mowed 
down with dreadful slaughter still pressed forward. 
Hour after hour, they struggled under a close and mur- 
derous fire — portions cleared the hedges, and rushed ovei 
the open lawn, but were swept away like mist before the 
5* 



1 Of) OilVEE CROMWELL. 

wi ii; ! Five hundred fell on this single spot, which seem- 
ed scarce large enough to hold so many dead bodies. At 
length the wreck of this brave column retreated, cover- 
ed by a portion of the cavalry, who calmly took the 
fire on themselves to save their gallant friends. 

In other parts of the field the battle was equally des- 
perate — Essex's old soldiers in particular, who were still 
smarting under the disgrace of their surrender, performed 
prodigies of valor. They rushed like madmen on the 
guns, and with clubbed muskets beat the artillerists from 
their pieces. When they saw the cannon they had lost 
in Cornwall, they seemed possessed with the fury of 
demons. Nothing could withstand their onset. Break- 
ing over all resistance, they seized their old pieces and 
dragged, them back with shouts that were heard above 
the roar of battle, and falling on them embraced them 
with tears of joy. 

But, at length, night, which closes so many scenes of 
carnage, shut in this. The last flash lit up the gathering 
gloom; the last sullen roar died away; and the two 
hosts rested on their arms. Both claimed the victory, 
but Cromwell had made such sad work with the left 
wing of the king, that he found his position no longer 
tenable, and decided to retreat. 

As the bright moon of that Sabbath evening rode 
through the cloudless heavens, its gentle beams lit up 
one of the ghastliest scenes of war. Heaps of mangled 
men, dead steeds, shattered armor, rent plumes, and 
pools of blood, lay as so many witnesses to heaven of 
man's lust of power. By the light of that same moon 



1 644.] ACCUSES MANCHESTER. 107 

the king drew off his troops, and commenced a hasty re- 
treat. Cromwell no sooner discovered it, than he urged 
Manchester to fall on his rear. The latter refusing, 
Oliver offered, with his single brigade, to rout the whole 
army; still Manchester declined. Promises and remon- 
strances were alike in vain ; and the gallant leader 
of the Ironsides, with swelling heart, saw the fruits of 
the bloody day escaping his hands. In vain had been 
his efforts — in vain the great sacrifice of men : the king 
was allowed to depart unmolested. 

Late in the morning some slight demonstrations to- 
wards a pursuit were made, but evidently with no inten- 
tion of engaging the enemy. Cromwell was still more 
exasperated, when the king, having been reinforced b}' 
Rupert, came back twelve days after, and right in the 
face of the army carried off all the cannon, stores, 
&c., from Dennington Castle, without a blow being 
struck to prevent it. It is said that Manchester, in 
reply to his remonstrance, declared, that the king, if 
beaten, would be king still, and able to raise another 
army, while, if they were defeated, they would all be 
hung as rebels. Such vacillation of purpose and 
weakness, nay, culpable remissness, roused all the fire 
in Cromwell's nature. Instead of being disheartened, 
or of venting his spleen in murmurs, he resolved at 
once to crush his superior. The noble cause in 
which he was struggling should not be sacrificed with- 
out an effort; and hastening to parliament, he boldly 
accused him of misconduct — of secretly favoring the 
enemy, by not pressing the advantages thrown in his 



108 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

way — in short, of being a trustless commander. He 
not only pressed these accusations with all the energy 
and passion that distinguished him, but, before he 
finished, shook dim menaces over both king and lords. 

Manchester, a few days after, replied to these heavy 
charges, accusing Cromwell, in turn, of insubordination ; 
of once replying to his request to perform some service 
with his horse, that if " his lordship wanted to have 
the skins of the horses, that was the way to get 
them ;" # and of treachery, in refusing to obey his 
commands on the battle-field ; and further, of having 
openly declared, that "there would never be a good 
time in England, till we had done with lords ; and he, 
the Earl of Manchester, become again plain Mr. Mon- 
tague" — plain words for a subordinate to utter to a 
commander, in those olden times of great reverence for 
authority. 

These sudden outbursts exhibit the stormy nature of 
the man, and show clearly that he foresaw the course 
the revolution must take, to be successful. The Pres- 
byterians began to be alarmed. The leader of the In- 
dependents was evidently arraying his forces against 
them and their officers, and resolutely bent on reform. 
The bold position he assumed, called to their remem- 
brance the motion he made in parliament after the 
battle of Marston Moor — that a committee might be 
appointed to reconcile the differences of opinion in 
members of the assembly on church government ; and 
if it could not be done, to devise some measure by 

* Vide Ruslrvorth, Pari. Hist. Clarendon.. 



1644.] PLOT AGAINST HIM. 109 

which dissenters from the Presbyterians might be pro- 
tected, indeed, " borne with." 

The union with Scotland he evidently condemned, 
and wished it dissolved, for he would have no man's 
conscience fettered by rigid formulas; while it was 
indispensably necessary that the fastidious leaders who 
still clung to the king should be removed, and the 
unchained energies of freemen, not afraid to strike 
home for liberty and religion, allowed to have way. 
Vane was his right hand man in carrying out these plans : 
Ireton clung to him ; Marten, the young Ludlow, Fair- 
fax, and Milton, were his friends. 

This fiery orb that had moved so slowly into the 
political sphere of England, began now to mount the 
heavens ; and no wonder the Presbyterian leaders were 
alarmed at its progress, and the daring path it was 
choosing. They again opened negociations with the 
king, who had now taken up his winter quarters at 
Oxford. 

In the meantime, an effort was made to ruin Oli- 
ver; and the Presbyterian leaders, and Scotch commis- 
sioners, met at Essex's house, to devise means for 
carrying out their plans. The Lord Chancellor of 
Scotland first spoke; and addressing Whitelocke and 
Maynard, told them, the wish and purpose was to get 
rid of Cromwell in some way, who was a firebrand 
between the two nations, and an enemy of " his excel- 
lency." Said he, " You ken vary weel the accord 
'twixt the twa kingdoms, and the union by the solemn 
league and covenant; and if any be at incendiary 



110 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

between the twa nations, how he is to be proceeded 
agair.st V s He then wished to know if Cromwell was 
not such an incendiary; and if so, how they should 
enter on the prosecution ? for, said he, if it can be 
proved against him, we will " clepe his wings from 
soaring to the prejudice of our cause." It was easy 
enough to talk; but wdien it came to the point who 
should be the man to " clepe the wings " of the soaring 
bird, no one dared to attempt it. Whitelocke gravely 
shook his head at the word " incendiary" spoke about 
proofs, &c. ; but, at length, came to the grand difficulty 
in the way, viz., " Lieutenant General Cromwell is 
a man of quick and subtle parts, and one who hath, 
especially of late, gained much interest in the House 
of Commons, nor is wanting of friends in the House 
of Peers; nor of abilities in himself to manage his own 
part in defence to the best advantages."* That is, in 
plain English ; " Gentlemen, I take this Cromwell to be 
rather a dangerous sort of a man to meddle with — bold, 
able, resolute, and penetrating. The enemy who en- 
counters him, will have to look well both to himself and 
his cause. 

The project was abandoned ; and the bold Independ- 
ent, who knew all about it, laid, in turn, a plot of his 
own, which he sprung to some purpose on the alarmed 
Presbyterians. A day of fasting and prayer was set 
apart to consider the state of the kingdom : the clergy 
preached on the subject; Vane and Cromwell had 
thought of it ; and planned, too, how they should get 

* Vide Whitelocke. 



l(544.~| SELF-DENYING ORDINANCE. Ill 

such men as Essex, Waller, and Manchester, indeed, 
the whole remaining leaven of loyalty, out of th3 
army. At length, everything being prepared, parlia- 
ment, expecting some grand move, was sitting, on the 
9th of December, in " grand committee," silent and som- 
bre, when Cromwell arose, and said, " It is now a time to 
speak, or forever hold the tongue. The important 
occasion, now, is no less than to save a nation out of 
a Heeding, nay, almost dying condition." He then went 
on to state, that unless the war was more vigorously 
pn secuted, the kingdom would get weary of it, and 
fox ce them to a dishonorable peace. The army, he de- 
clared, must be newly modelled, and put under new com- 
manders. With consummate tact he deprecated any 
investigation of the conduct of the present chief of- 
ficers. Their errors and their good deeds were both 
past — let them rest — and a remedy for existing evils be 
applied without any reference to them. In another 
part of the debate, in allusion to the objection against 
calling them from the army to sit in parliament, be- 
cause it would dispirit the soldiers, he declared he could 
answer for his own men ; saying, " They look not 
upon me, but upon you ; and for you they will fight, 
and live and die in your cause." A motion was then 
made, that no member of parliament should hold any 
civil or military office. 

This was the famous self-denying ordinance, which 
after much debate, amendments, &c, was finally shaped 
<o that it simply discharged all members of parliament 
from the offices the) then held. This cutting off the 



112 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

prospective part of the act, leaving to pailiament the 
power, in future, if it chose, to appoint its members 
to office, was done, it is said, to keep Cromwell in the 
army. At all events, Cromwell's proposal effectually 
shut the door on his own career. He moved to blot 
out his own ambitious prospects, if he had any, and 
leave to others the laurels within his grasp. 

The fact that parliament and the kingdom could not 
do without him, and he ran a more brilliant career from 
the very ordinance which in all probability would end 
it, has thrown suspicion upon his integrity. When ene- 
mies go on mere probabilities, there are no conclusions 
too absurd or too unjust for them to draw. That Crom- 
well designed to oust the old commanders, and did do it, 
no one doubts — but that he expected to gain anything 
by it, is untrue ; for a new commander-in-chief and all 
the superior officers were appointed, and he left out — offi- 
cers, too, with whom, even if he retained his rank, he 
could not compete so easily as with the old ones. He 
caused better leaders to be placed over him, and hence 
threw greater obstacles in the way of his advancement. 
He acted solely for the public good. 

The passage of this bill, a clause of which allowed 
men to serve without taking the covenant, placed the 
army in the hands of the Independents. By one sec- 
tion it was decreed that the military of the three king- 
doms, should be put on a " new model," and the three 
armies, of 10,000 men each, be consolidated into one 
army of 20,000. 

In effecting this, a great change in the morale of the 



IG44.] CHARACTER OF THE ARMY. 113 

army was produced. The officers and men withdrawn 
were the least able, and most dissolute ; so that a great 
purification resulted from the reduction. Fairfax was 
appointed Lord General, and the brave Skippon, made 
a Major General. The new Lieutenant General who 
was to fill Cromwell's place was not named, but those 
who saw the blank were not long in guessing who would 
command the cavalry. 

Cromwell superintended the remodelling of the army, 
and guided by the same principles which governed 
him in selecting his band of Ironsides, he finally pre- 
sented parliament with a body of soldiers, the like 
of which was never seen. Republicans in principle, 
and enthusiasts in religion, they looked with contempt 
on all earthly distinctions, and feared God alone. " In 
their devotional retirement, they prayed with convul- 
sions, and groans, and tears. They were half maddened 
by glorious or terrible illusions. They heard the lyre of 
angels, or the tempting whisper of fiends. But when 
they girt on the sword of war, those tempestuous work- 
ings of the soul left no perceptible trace behind them."* 
With that flashing above their heads, and the Psalms 
of David on their lips, they moved with shouts to the 
harvest of death. Set apart by God to accomplish a 
great work — each a " vessel of glory," and ordained to 
eternal life, they looked upon the slaughter of their foes 
as they did upon the destruction of the heathen before 
the march of the Israelites to Canaan. " The sword of 
the Lrrd and of Gideon," heralded many a wild shock of 

* Se4 Macauley's Review of Milton. 



114 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

cavalry. To such men the severe discipline adopted by 
Cromwell was not irksome. Theft, profanity, drunken- 
ness, lewdness — what had they to do with these who were 
standing on the threshold of eternal glory. Against the 
stern valor and headlong enthusiasm of such men, what 
vere the older discipline, the science and gallant chiv- 
alry of the corrupt and profligate cavalier. Under 
privations, toil and pain, they would bear up with the 
resolution of martyrs. 

Never before, had an army been composed of such 
strange and terrific material ; yet the friends of Charles 
took courage when they saw what troops and leaders — 
being nearly all common, untitled men — he would hereaf- 
ter be compelled to meet. 

It required great self-confidence and nerve in Crom- 
well, to dare depart so far from old rules, and put reli- 
gious enthusiasm and courage against the science of the 
world. But he relied more on the rushing charge, than 
the well-formed line of battle, and thus set an example 
which Bonaparte afterwards copied successfully. That 
an army composed of such materials, so disciplined and 
so commanded, should soon change the aspect of affairs, 
and win for itself a reputation unsurpassed in the annals 
of history, republicans of this age can well imagine, but 
in those times, it seemed almost a miracle. Fairfax, Ire- 
ton, Skippon, and last of all, Cromwell, became four terri- 
ble names in England, and as much dreaded on the field 
of battle, as Henry Vane's in the Hall of Parliament. 

Nothing shows the practical sagacity of Cromwell; 
more than his introduction of the religious sentiment into 



1644.] THE PURITAN ARMY. 115 

the army. Bonaparte could not do this, and so he did 
the next best thing — instilled the love of glory. The for- 
mer made religion popular in the army and in the king- 
dom, and his bulletins to parliament were more like the 
letters of a clergyman to his presbytery, than the reports 
of a general to his government, Scripture phrases came 
into common use, and custom soon made proper and 
natural, what now seems to us the mere cant of hypoc- 
risy. It is not to be supposed, that the solemn look and 
nasal tone, and Bible language of the Puritans, always 
indicated piety. These things became the. fashion — ■ 
made common, it is true, by a strong religious feeling ; 
and fashion would make the people of New York talk in 
the same strain. 

Cromwell naturally adopted the same language — for, 
with all his religious sincerity, he was as much of an 
enthusiast as his most ardent follower, and felt himself 
an instrument in the hands of God, for the accomplish- 
ment of a great work. It is a little singular, that all those 
great men who have effected sudden and unexpected 
changes in human affairs, have always regarded them- 
selves under the influence of a special destiny. If a 
heathen, he has been the favorite of the gods ; if a Chris- 
tian, like Cromwell, the mere agent of Supreme Power ; 
if an unbeliever, like Napoleon, under the influence of 
some star. 



CHAPTER V. 

CAMPAIGN OF 1645 TO THE SPRING OF 164G. 

Cromwell's Commission Extended — Affair of Islip Bridge — Bletch- 
ington House, Witney — Bampton Bush — The Main Army in Motion 
— Cromwell Sent to Cambridge— Recalled and Joins Fairfax — Bat- 
tle of Naseby — Cromwell's Letters to the House of Commons — 
Cromwell Relieves Leicester — Takes Bridgewater and Puts Goring 
to Flight — Disperses the Clubmen — Storming of Bristol — Cromwell 
Takes Devizes, Berkley Castle and Winchester — Storm and Sack- 
ing of Basing House — Cromwell Defeats Lord Wentworth — Joins 
Fairfax and Takes Dartmouth — Defeats Lord Hopton — Movements 
of the King, meanwhile — Defeat of Lord Astley — Negotiations again 
Opened with Parliament — The King Flies to the Scottish Camp. 

In the spring of this year, Charles sent his son into 
Wales, as generalissimo of the forces there, and never 
saw him again. In the meantime, he received the news 
of the new organization of the parliamentary army, 
which filled him and his officers with extravagant joy. 
All the old and scientific commanders, and men of rank, 
had been turned out, and obscure, unknown persons 
appointed in their places. " A mob of peasants and 
preaching mechanics," as they were derisively termed, 
was now the only opposition he had to contend against ; 
and over tnese the gallant cavaliers would ride un- 
checked; sorry only that they had not foemen mure 
worthy of their steel. Ribald songs were made in their 



1645.] AFFAIR OF ISL1P BRIDGE. 11 

nonor ; and royalist wit expended itself in jests and puns 
on the republican troops. 

Oliver, who, during the early part of the spring, had 
been busy in re-organizing the army and, with Waller, 
endeavoring to check Goring and Rupert in the West, 
now, in the latter part of April, came, in compliance 
with the self-denying ordinance, to the head-quarters 
of Fairfax at Windsor, to "kiss the general's hand," 
and resign his commission. The next morning, how- 
ever, he received directions from the committee of the 
two kingdoms to take some squadrons of horse and in- 
tercept a convoy of 2000 men, sent by Rupert, lying at 
Worcester, to fetch the king, with the artillery from 
Oxford. 

Without a moment's delay, Cromwell commenced his 
preparations ; and at evening, a gallant array was seen 
winding out of Windsor, and stretching in a long line 
over the country. The next day, April 24th, he fell on 
this army at Islip Bridge, and routed it, taking sev- 
eral prisoners and a standard which had been presented 
by the queen to her regiment. The same day, he took 
Bletchington House with dragoons alone. Two days 
after, he again beat the army at Witney; and dashing 
across the country, fell on the royalists at Bampton 
Bush ; — thus, in five days, the first of the new army in the 
field, fighting three battles, and victorious in all. Two 
days after, he summoned the governor of Farringdon, 
whom, with the garrison he had forced into the house 
of the former, to surrender. A refusal being returned, 
he, the next day, stormed the house '. but was repulsed, 



118 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

with the loss of fourteen men and a captain. Wheel- 
ing back on his path, he hastened to join the main 
army, which he heard had put itself in motion. 

Charles having effected his junction with Rupert r the 
two marched northward to relieve Chester, or attack 
the Scottish army, as circumstances might direct. In 
the meantime, parliament resolved that Cromwell 
should not resign at present, and extended his com- 
mission. 

The movement of the army, on the 30th of April, was 
the occasion of great excitement among the Puritans of 
London. Parliament passed an ordinance that all the 
preachers should pray for its success ; and strong pray- 
ers went up that the Lord of Hosts would be its defence, 
and lead it, as he did the army of Israel, to victory. 

All this time, the king was moving northward ; while 
Fairfax marched to Oxford, and invested it. Cromwell 
had hardly joined him here, before he was ordered, in all 
haste, to the eastern counties, whither, the king, driving 
the Scottish army before him, was rapidly advancing. 
These were the stronghold of republicanism ; and hence 
of vital importance to Parliament. He took up his quar- 
ters in Cambridge ; but had scarcely been there a week 
before he was recalled. The king had turned aside and 
stormed Leicester, and given it over to the brutality of 
the soldiers. Taunton, too, had fallen ; and doubt and 
uncertainty began to take the place of confidence 
respecting the new army. 

While these brilliant successes were being achieved 
by the king, Fairfax lay idle before Oxford, which 



1645.] HIS RECEPTION BY THE ARMY. 119 

caused universal dissatisfaction and complaint. At 
length, being ordered to raise the siege and pursue 
Charles, he petitioned parliament that Cromwell might 
accompany him ; as he could not do without his aid. 
This petition, signed by himself and sixteen colonels, 
was granted; and, June 12th, holding his old rank as 
lieutenant-general, Oliver was seen sweeping across 
the country with his trusty squadrons. As those six 
thousand horsemen filed into view of Fairfax's army 
at Northampton, a loud shout went up like the cry of 
" vive Yempereur" with which the French soldiers were 
wont to greet the appearance of Napoleon. New hope 
visited every breast, as they saw this favored child of 
victory leading his terrible Ironsides to their assistance. 
Prompt and decided, his presence wrought a sudden 
change in the army ; and on that very night Ireton was 
sent forward to attack the king's outposts. The latter, 
blind to his danger, and elated with the news of Mont- 
rose's victory over the rebels in Scotland, had leisurely 
pursued his way, stopping to hunt and amuse his officers, 
as if no storm was gathering darkly behind. But when 
he heard that the republicans were attacking his rear- 
guard, and driving in his outposts, he awoke as from a 
dream. His enemy, who seemed to take things as lei- 
surely as himself, and keep at a cautious distance, now 
all at once, could not wait for daylight before he brought 
on an engagement. The reason of this sudden activity 
is thus given significantly by Guizot, in one short sen- 
tence : " Cromwell had been with the army for several 
hours." His presence inspired the troops with the en- 



120 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ergy and daring which characterized all his movements, 
and which never could brook a lazy pursuit. He wan 
always restless and urgent till he found his enemy ; and 
then pressed him with such vigor, that he compelled 
him to take refuge in a rapid and disorderly flight, or 
turn at bay. 

The king, now fairly awake to his danger, hastily 
called a council of war, which from the opposite views 
that agitated its deliberations, did not break up till 
midnight. Through Prince Rupert's influence, how- 
ever, it was at length decided to face about and meet 
the enemy. The king, not many weeks before, had said, 
" Oh that some one would bring me this Cromwell, dead 
or alive !" and now he had still greater cause to utter 
the wish. 

THE BATTLE OF NASEBY. 

Nothing shows the promptness and energy of Crom- 
well more than his conduct in bringing on and fighting 
this battle. He received orders to join Fairfax on the 
12th of June: on the evening of the thirteenth, he led 
his forces into camp ; and that same night, despatching 
Ireton to attack the royalists, six miles distant, brought 
on the battle the next day, which before sunset he had 
won, and saved England. 

Naseby is a small straggling hamlet, lying in the heart 
of England. The country around it, at this time, was 
unenclosed, with swelling uplands and broad tracts of 
moor between. The republican army had drawn for- 
ward in dead silence, about a mile and a half from 



1645.] BATTLE OF NASEBY. 1 2l 

Naseby, early in the morning, and taken up its position 
on a gentle hill side, which descended to a broad pla- 
teau, now called Broad Moor.* In the distance, on a 
similar ridge, but out of sight, the royalists had formed 
their line of battle. The former by sunrise was ready 
for action. The solid masses of infantry, commanded by 
Fairfax and Skippon, occupied the centre, protected by 
twenty-five pieces of artillery ; while the cavalry, with 
Ireton and Cromwell at their head, stretched away on 
either flank like two wings. Ireton, at Cromwell's 
urgent request, had been promoted on the spot, and given 
the command of the cavalry composing the left wing. 

Thus arrayed, those twenty thousand men lifted a 
psalm of praise to God. It rolled along their lines in 
one majestic shout, thrilling every heart like a voice 
from heaven. Again and again was the solemn refrain 
caught up, and sent forward through the dark bat- 
talions, and finally died away amid Cromwell's enthu- 
siastic squadrons. They then sat down in ranks upon 
the green upland, with their arms in their hands, to 
wait the advance of the royalists, against whom Crom- 
well had sent a detachment, to beguile them from their 
strong position. 

In the meantime, Rupert, impatient to find the enemy, 
spurred forward some two miles, and suddenly came 
on the advance-guard of the Puritans, which im- 
mediately fell back. Mistaking it for the rear-guard, 
he sent word to the king that the enemy was in full 
flight, and urged him to hasten up with the army. 

* Vide Carlyle. page 166. 
6 



1*22 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Forsaking his strong position, he came hurrying for- 
ward over the broad moor, while a single gun from the 
Puritan host announced the approaching shock. 

It was now about ten o'clock, and Rupert began the 
battle. His squadrons dashed across the level ground, 
shouting, " Queen Mary ;" which the Puritans an- 
swered with the fearful war-cry — "God is with us!" 
Scorning all obstacles, he charged straight up the hill, 
on the left wing, commanded by Ireton. This stern 
republican well knew the stuff his antagonist was 
composed of, and knew also why he himself had been 
promoted on the field of battle, and strained every 
nerve to meet the onset firmly. But no cavalry had 
ever yet broken Rupert's charge but Cromwell's ; and 
none in England could do it. With banners stream- 
ing in the summer air, and rattling armor, and 
shouts that made the welkin ring, the eager cava- 
liers fell in a steady gallop, on the thick-set squad- 
rons of parliamentary horse, and bearing them gradually 
back, at length burst through the ranks with resistless 
fury. The proud heart of Ireton well nigh broke at the 
sight, and spurring into the thickest of the fight, and 
breasting all alone the terrible torrent, he shouted to 
his men to rally. He called on them by every motive 
that moves the heart of man, but in vain ; Rupert 
swept onward, bearing the battle before him. Ireton, 
and a few followers gallant as himself, refused to fly, and 
the tide swept round them, as the stream around the 
earth-fast rock, and left them almost alone in the field. 
Stuug into madness at the rout of his cavalry, on 



1616.] BATTLE OF NASEBY 123 

whose flying traces Rupert was still pressing, as they 
swarmed in a confused throng over the moor, he called 
the few that remained near his person, to follow him, and 
fell, with the energy of despair, on the advancing infant- 
ry. But borne down and unhorsed, w r ith a pike through 
his thigh, and another through his shoulder, he was, after 
a fierce struggle, overpowered and taken prisoner. 

In the meantime, the whole line had engaged — 
the troops came into action with astonishing rapidity, 
and the conflict at once formed its crisis, and became 
close and deadly. The infantry pressed steadily up the 
slope, against Fairfax and Skippon in the centre, whose 
fire, too elevated, passed harmlessly over their heads. 
It then became a hand-to-hand fiVht, and those two 
brave commanders forgot that they were officers, and 
mingled foremost in the fray. Skippon, dreadfully 
wounded, bled in his saddle, and Fairfax seeing his 
condition, urged him to retire. "No," said the brave 
old republican, " as long as one man will stand I wont 
stir ;" and shouting to his reserve to advance, he him- 
self led the charge. The next moment, Fairfax himself 
received a blow on his head, which shattered his helmet 
aid hurled it to the ground. Bare-headed, with his eye 
flashing fire, he still galloped amid the ranks, inspiring 
them with hope and resolution, and shouting " courage" 
with a voice like a trumpet. The colonel of his body- 
guard, seeing his danger, spurred across his path, and 
handing him his own helmet, urged him not to risk his 
life so recklessly. " 9 Tis well enough, Charles, so,' 3 
exclaimed the gallant commander, and the next moment 



1 2 i OLIVER CROMWELL. 

was struggling where the standards rose and fell, in the 
doubtful fight. 

The left wing was now utterly broken — the struggle 
in the centre wavered to and fro — and oh, had it 
then fared ill with the right wing, all had been lost ; 
but Cromwell and his Ironsides were there. Imitating 
Rupert, Sir Marmaduke Langdale, at the head of the 
main body of the royalist cavalry, charged this right 
wing gallantly. But he might as well have charged on 
a wall of iron. Shattered and stunned by the shock, 
the astonished squadrons recoiled down the hill. The 
next moment, Oliver's bugles rang out — and shouting, 
" God is with us" the whole body precipitated itself 
down the slope, with such headlong fury that it burst 
through all resistance, and shattered the whole wing into 
fragments. Sending three squadrons after the fugitives 
to prevent them from rallying, " which" as Clarendon 
quaintly says, " they never thought of doing," Cromwell 
sounded a recall to the remaining four, and his disciplin- 
ed Ironsides came riding coolly back, as if on a parade. 

All this time the centre shook with the roar of guns, 
and shouts, and clash of weapons. Fairfax noticing a 
a portion of the king's infantry maintaining its perfect 
order, amid the confusion, pointed it out to the colonel 
of his body-guard, saying, "Can't those people be 
got at — have you charged them?" "Twice, general," 
replied the officer, "but I could not break them." 
"Well then," replied Fairfax, "take them in front — 
I will take them in the rear, andwe '11 meet in the 
middle /" And they did meet in the middle ; and of 



1645.] DESPAIR OF THE KING. 125 

that brave regiment scarce a man was left to tell 
how he fought. Fairfax killed the ensign with his own 
hand, and captured the colors.*' At that moment, 
also, sending dismay into the royalist infantry, was 
heard the heavy tramp of Cromwell's cavalry, as "with 
loosened rein, and spur in horse's flanks," he led them 
fiercely on. They broke into the very centre of 
the king's guards, and routing them, seized all the can- 
non, standards, and even the king's private carriage 
and papers. 

At this critical moment, Rupert, with his horse 
blown from the chase, came back and found the field 
lost. 

The appalling disaster fell like a thunderbolt on 
Charles, and rousing himself to a desperate effort, 
he proceeded to the head of his regiment of life-guards, 
and bidding them follow their king, was about to lead 
them to the charge, when the Earl of Carnewarth, 
who was riding beside him, suddenly seized the bridle 
of his horse, and exclaiming, with a sturdy Scotch oath, 
" Do you want to rush upon your death in an in- 
stant ?" turned him to the right-about. In a mo- 
ment, the whole column supposing that the order 
was to move to the right, wheeled after, which placed 
their backs to the enemy. This was equivalent to 
an order to retreat; and putting spurs to their horses, 
they fled on every side. Pale with despair, and his 

* He gave the colors to a soldier, who claimed the merit of having 
captured them. An officer overhearing his boast, was indignant. 
Fairfax passing at the time, said, "I have honor enough; let hitn 
take that to himself." 



J 26 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

eye gleaming wildly, the king shouted, " Stand! stand!' 
A few wheeled back at the order; and Rupert's strag- 
glers gathering round him, he endeavored again to 
make a last charge for his crown and kingdom. With 
his sword waving over his head, he twice darted for- 
ward, exclaiming — " One charge more, gentlemen, and 
the day is ours !"* But he spoke to weary, disheart- 
ened men. Besides, there stood the dark squadrons of 
Cromwell's invincible horsemen, as perfect in their 
array, and as ready for the onset, as when the morn- 
ing sun first flashed on their steel caps. 

All was lost ; and with two thousand mounted fol- 
lowers, the king fled towards Leicester, pressed hard 
by the tireless horsemen of the republicans. The victory 
was complete — the contest had lasted but three hours ; 
ind yet, there lay over three thousand corpses, while 
the moor, ploughed like a field, was covered with 
the wounded, and the wrecks of the fight. Five thou- 
sand were taken prisoners — and all the standards, artill- 

* The king was even upon the point of charging the enemy in the 
head of his guards, when the Eari of Carnewarth, who rode next 
to him (a man never suspected of infidelity, nor one from whom 
the king would have received counsel in such a case), on a sudden laid 
his hand on the bridle of the king's horse, and swearing two or three 
foul-mouthed Scottish oaths, (for he was of that nation,) said, " Will 
you go upon your death in an instant ; and before his majesty under- 
stood what he would have, turnnd his horse round ; upon which, a 
word run through the troops, " that they should march to the right 
hand," which was both from charging the enemy, or ousting their 
own men ; and upon this they all turned their horses, and rode upon 
the spur, as if they were every man to shift for himself. Vide Claren- 
don, Hist. Rebellion, page 559. 



1645.] cromwell's letter. 127 

lery, &c, together with the king's cabinet papers, fell 
into the hands of the captors. Many females were 
killed in the pursuit, and several women of quality taken 
prisoners, together with a hundred debased Irish wo- 
men. Trenches were dug, and the dead piled by 
hundreds in, and the earth thrown loosely over them, 
many of whom had not ceased to breathe. 

So complete a victory had not been expected, and 
the news of it spread like wildfire over England. 
Fairfax sent a despatch to parliament, while Crom- 
well wrote a letter to the House of Commons, from 
whom, alone, he had received his appointment, the 
House of Lords having refused to sanction the vote 
which extended his commission. After speaking of 
the battle, and the fruits of the victory, he concludes 
with these remarkable words : " Sir, this is none other 
but the hand of God, and to Him alone belongs the 
glory, whereas none are to share with him. The 
general served you with all faithfulness and honor ; 
and the best commendation I can give him, is, that 
I dare say he attributes all to God, and would rather 
perish, than assume to himself, which is an honest 
and thriving way ; and yet, as much for bravery 
may be given to him. in this action, as to a man. 
Honest men served you faithfully in this action. Sir, 
they are trusty. I beseech you, in the name of God, 
not to discourage them. I wish this action may beget 
thankfulness in all that are concerned in it. He that 
ventures his life for the liberty of his country, I wish 
he trusts God for the liberty of his conscience, and 



128 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

you for the liberty he fights for." This allusion to 
the general, is certainly cool in a subordinate, and 
sounds strange; yet, Cromwell knew perfectly well 
what he was about, and that, instead of affronting 
Fairfax by it, he should please him ; for the latter 
was a mere child in everything but military matters, 
and wholly under his control. His great capa- 
city, deep combinations, bold and daring projects, and 
soaring genius, gave him complete ascendancy over 
the just and generous, but more simple-minded, com- 
mander-in-chief. Indeed, he was in reality the superior 
officer, and Fairfax looked up to him as such, in form- 
ing his military plans. Hence, the commendation was 
from his superior both in character, talents, and influ- 
ence in the army, and strength in the battle-field. The 
"honest men" referred to, were the Independents — dis- 
senters from the Presbyterian Church, who had been 
regarded with so much suspicion ; and he here throws 
in a word in their behalf, which fell like a bomb among 
the Presbyterians. They saw, plainly, that Cromwell 
would never tolerate their bigotry. 

After this disastrous battle — the last he ever fought, 
in person, for his throne — the king fled from town 
to town ; and, finally, resolved to go to Wales, and 
recruit his army. Sending Rupert to Bristol to de- 
fend it, he proceeded to Ragland Castle, to consult 
with the Marquis of Worcester, chief of the Catho- 
lic party, how to retrieve his fallen fortunes. 

In the meantime, his private papers, captured at 
the battle of Naseby, were publisl ed abroad, and 



J 645.] HIS ENERGY. 129 

his secret purposes made known. From these, it was 
evident, that, notwithstanding his fair promises and 
proposals, he had never, for an instant, abandoned 
the ground he took in the first conflict with parlia- 
ment. Still dreaming of absolute power, and royal 
prerogative, he was negotiating with foreign princes 
for troops, with which to subdue his own subjects. 
A.t this evidence of double-dealing, on the part of 
their monarch, the indignation of the people broke 
over all bounds, and none seemed to wish for peace. 
"War! war!" was in everybody's mouth; and the 
heavens gathered blacker than ever over the devoted 
head of Charles. 

On the very day that the news of the victory 
reached parliament, Cromwell's appointment was 
lengthened out to three months, and, at the expi- 
ration of that time, to four months, and then to six 
months, after which he himself took care of his com- 
mission. 

One great cause of his success, which followed, 
was his celerity of movement. No difficulties ex- 
hausted him, no pleasure beguiled, and no victories 
lulled him into a moment's repose. No sooner was 
the bloody field of Naseby swept of the enemy, than 
he hurried Fairfax forward to Leicester, which im- 
mediately fell ; and then pressed on to Taunton, around 
which the profligate Goring lay with his army, in 
close siege. One-third of the town had been taken ; 
and in a few days more, unless relieved, it would be 
given up to Goring's brutal troops. But Cromwell 



130 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

dashed upon them, driving them before him towards 
Bridgewater. As he came in sight of the latter place, 
he rode forward to make a reconnoisance, when a mus- 
ket-ball, aimed at him, struck down a cornet by his side. 
He resolved, at once, to storm the place ; and rushing 
over its strong ramparts, swept them like a flood. 

More than a thousand of Goring's army had been 
killed, or taken prisoners, in these two encounters. 
Moving still forward, he came upon the clubmen — a 
third party, which pretended to be neutral, and was 
composed of the peasantry and laborers of the coun- 
try, who, armed with bludgeons, had organized them- 
selves for mutual protection, against the violence of 
both armies. Advancing with a small detachment 
of horse towards Shaftesbury, he encountered a large 
body, who, receiving his promise that they should 
not be plundered, nor their rights invaded, quietly 
dispersed. Proceeding to the town, he saw another 
body of two thousand drawn up on Hambledon Hill, 
who fired on the fifty horsemen he sent in advance, 
to confer with them. The peaceable offer being re- 
newed, they fired again, killing two men and four 
horses. Cromwell then ordered a charge; and com- 
ing on them in rear, dispersed them without loss to 
himself, and took some three hundred prisoners, whom 
he requested parliament to let him "send home, as 
they were poor, silly creatures, who promised to 
be very dutiful for time to come, and would be hanged 
before they came out again." 

This ended the clubmen; who, notwithstanding theii 



1645.] STORMING OF BRISTOL. 131 

pretended neutrality, were royalists at heart — the king 
having granted commissions to raise regiments of them, 
all over England. Cromwell then returned to Sher- 
burne, which was closely besieged by Fairfax. The 
castle having surrendered, they together pushed forward 
towards Bristol, where Prince Rupert lay with 5,000 
men. 



STORMING OF BRISTOL. 

Bristol was one of the most important places in the 
Kingdom, and was not only well defended by walls and 
gates, but surrounded with a line of works, protected by 
strong forts, on which were placed a hundred and forty 
cannon. Notwithstanding their recent successes, the 
leaders of the parliamentary army were in much doubt 
respecting the expediency of attacking so strong and 
heavily garrisoned a place. Cromwell, however, know- 
ing how important it was to keep the disaffected clubmen 
from coming to a head, and the royalists from concen- 
trating their forces, overruled all opposition, and the 
army continued to advance, till within four miles of 
the town. A halt was then ordered, and a council of 
war called, to decide whether they should approach by 
regular siege, or commence at once a close blockade. 
The latter being resolved upon, they moved forward — ■ 
the enemy retiring before them, within the line of their 
ranks, while the villages they had set on fire in their 
retreat, blazed balefully up in the evening twilight. 

Thus lighted to the walls of Bristol, the victorious 



32 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

army sat down before it, and commenced the invest- 
ment. One brigade was marched to the south side of 
the town, and entrenched itself on a hill that over- 
looked the place ; while Ireton, with a body of horse 
and dragoons, took post on the north side, till the 
infantry could come up and occupy the position. In a 
short time the entire place was closely invested. Sally 
aiter sally was made, but the beseigers successfully 
maintained every post with but little loss. The hardest 
duty devolved upon the cavalry, which was constantly 
in motion, galloping from post to post, as each was 
heavily threatened in turn. At length, a council was 
called to consider whether an attempt should not be 
made to carry the works by storm. The decision was 
against it ; but eight days after, on re-consideration, an 
assault was resolved upon. When the news spread 
through the army, all was joy and confidence. Not 
Rupert's dreaded horsemen, nor the frowning batteries 
were so disheartening as the ceaseless watchfulness and 
harrassing duty, to which they were subjected, without 
making apparently any progress. 

The 10th of September was fixed upon for the 
assault — the hour to be one o'clock in the morning. 
When everything was ready, the firing of a large 
heap of straw, and the discharge of four cannon, at 
Prior's Hill fort, one of the strongest of the fortifi- 
cUions, were to be the signals for the attack. At 
midnight, when all was still in the city, and naught 
but the measured tread, and " all's well " of the drowsy 
sentinel, broke the silence that reigned over the battle 



1645.] THE STORM. 133 

ments — the storming columns were arrayed, and stood in 
close order awaiting the signal. At length, the mid- 
night heavens flushed with a sudden glow, followed 
by the sullen thunder of those four cannon; when, 
with a shout that sent terror into the hearts of the 
besieged, the brave fellows rushed on. Colonels Mon- 
tague and Pickering stormed Lawford's Gate, " where 
was a double work," and sweeping over it, within 
the lines, pressed forward to the walls of the town, 
and occupied the gate at Castle street. Two other 
regiments, forcing their way over the works between 
this gate and the river Avon, soon stood in commu- 
nication with the others. Prior's Hill, a strong fort, 
and the line extending downward from it to the Froom 
river, were entrusted to Colonels Rainsborough and 
Hammond. The latter, assaulting the works lower 
down, gradually surmounted the obstacles that op- 
posed his advance ; but Rainsborough, who moved 
straight on the fort, suddenly saw a bare and solid 
wall of masonry rise before him. A ladder of thirty 
rounds would scarcely reach the top ; yet, nothing 
daunted, he mounted, at the head of his followers. 
But a row of glistening pikes fringed the parapet, 
and forced them back. Again, resolutely ascending, 
they stood on their precarious footing, and fought hand 
to hand with the enemy. Thus, for three hours, did 
they maintain this unequal contest, while four can- 
non on the ramparts over head, kept up a plunging 
fire of round and canister shot, on the dark masses 
oeneath. It was an incessant shout, and flash and roar. 



1 34 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

around that single fort ; and the bloody struggle was 
still going on, when Hammond, who had broken 
through the line of works below — a major, by the 
name of Bethel, being the first horseman within, 
though his good steed fell beneath him in the at- 
tempt, and he beside him, pierced with three balls — 
now came marching up in rear. 

To meet this new assailant, a strong body of horse 
was sent out, which charged furiously on the wearied 
column. But, at this critical moment, Captain Ire- 
ton, brother of the gallant commander, who was so 
severely wounded at Naseby, dashed forward with 
a forlorn hope of horse, and checked their advance, 
himself receiving two balls in the onset. The whole 
regiment now moved forward, and entered the fort at 
the same time that Rainsborough's men came pour- 
ing over the ramparts, shouting victory. 

The conquest of this fort, without which the whole 
line of works, a mile in length, w T hich had now been 
captured, would have been untenable, finished the con- 
flict on that side of Bristol, for the night ; for the orders 
were, to wait for daylight, before attempting the town 
itself. On the side where Colonel Welden commanded, 
the assault was unsuccessful ; for the ladders proving 
too short for the walls, the men were repulsed with 
great slaughter. 

Major Cromwell, a cousin of Oliver, was danger- 
ously wounded here. 

When morning dawned, Rupert, finding himself 
hemmed in, his strong works taken, and his position 



1645.] THE VICTORY. 135 

commanded by the republican guns, felt his proud 
spirit bow. The soldiers, however, mad with rage, 
fired the town in three places; and soon vast columns 
of smoke began to ascend the heavens, while the crack- 
ling of flames was distinctly heard without the walls. 
Cromwell and Fairfax were filled with grief, as they 
contemplated the apparently inevitable destruction 
of that splendid town. But fortunately, before the 
conflagration had proceeded far, Rupert sounded a 
parley, and despatched a message, offering to sur- 
render the place, on condition that he, with his 
forces, should be allowed to march forth. This was 
granted; and at two o'clock his humbled columns 
took up their line of march for Oxford, and the 
triumphant republicans, with streaming banners, entered 
the place. 

Here Cromwell again came near being killed. Af- 
ter the taking of Prior's fort, as he and Fairfax sat 
on the ramparts, a single cannon ball fired from the 
castle, struck the stones not a foot from him, and went 
whizzing past. 

The news of this victory sent a thrill of joy 
throughout the land, equal to that of Naseby. The 
letter of Oliver, giving an account of it, was ordered 
to be read in all the churches. 

Cromwell now marched from one triumph to ano- 
ther, with astonishing rapidity. Appearing before 
Devizes, he summoned it to surrender. The com- 
mander replied, "Win and wear it;" which Oliver 
slid, without farther ceremony He next stormed 



136 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Berkley Castle ; and then drew up his little army 
before Winchester, which capitulated without at- 
tempting a resistance. Here his soldiers had a taste 
of his discipline. Some of them robbed the inhabit- 
ants, as they were leaving the place, which, being 
told to him, he summoned six of them into his pre- 
sence ; and compelling them to cast lots, ordered the 
one on whom the lot fell, to be shot ; and sent the 
remaining five to the royalist governor, to be punished 
as he deemed best. Stern as death, where his com 
mands were slighted, he taught them that no bravery 
or success could make him overlook disobedience. 

STORMING OF BASING HOUSE. 

After taking Winchester, he marched on Basing 
House — one of the strongest holds of the king in Eng 
land, and which had hitherto resisted all efforts to 
take it. It was the seat of the Marquis of Winchester, 
and w 7 as composed of two houses — the old and the 
new — both splendidly furnished, and "fit to make an 
emperor's court," — one bed alone costing six thousand 
dollars. The line of circumvallation extended over 
a mile, and all the defences were of the most for- 
midable kind. This tempestuous leader, who could 
not brook the delay of sieges, nor even of close invest- 
ments, but, mounting the walls, sword in hand, and 
storming over the ruddy ramparts, had swept like 
a devastating flood the length and breadth of the 
country, now wheeled his cannon around the very 



1 G45.] STORMING OF BASING HOUSE. 137 

citadel of royalty. The governor, on being sum- 
moned to surrender, said to one of his councillors, 
who advised him to submit, that "if it was the last 
foot of land the king had in England, he would de 
fend it to the last ;" and so sent word to Cromwell 
The latter then opened all his batteries upon the 
place, and rained such an iron storm on the mas- 
sive walls, that they, at length, crumbled before it. 
Breaches being thus made, he arrayed his storming 
parties before daylight on the morning of the 14th of 
October. Four cannon fired in rapid succession, was 
to be the signal for them to fall on. All night long 
had Cromwell been bowed in prayer before God ; and 
now, resting on the verse of the 115th Psalm — " They 
tli at make them are like unto them, so is every one 
that trusteth in them;" — he ordered the signal to be 
given; and with a shout the troops rushed on. Breast- 
ing the volleys that met them, dashing fiercely on the 
pikes that defended the passages, scorning all ob- 
stacles, they scaled one wall, then pulling the ladders 
after them, mounted another, dealing death at every 
step, and conquering as much by their desperate 
daring, as by their weapons. 

The struggle was soon over ; and Basing House 
fell. It was, however, on fire, from a fire-ball which 
had been previously shot ; and the governor having 
had no time to extinguish the flames, it soon be- 
came a mass of ruins — the crumbling timbers, and 
massive stones, overlaying the living and the dead. 
The place was given up to rlunder; and the soldiers 



138 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

stripped not only every apartment of 'ts furniture, but 
even the lead from the gutters of the roof. A place that 
put the assailants to the extremity of storming, was 
regarded, in those times, the lawful property of the 
soldiers ; and they availed themselves of their rights 
on this occasion to the full extent. 

In the midst of the burning dwellings, and confusion, 
and tumult of the plundering soldiers, Cromwell sat down 
and wrote his despatch to parliament. He advised 
them not to garrison it, but leave it dismantled; and 
added, that if they wanted the work carried on, they 
must raise recruits and pay the soldiers. As usual in 
all his letters, he ascribed the entire success to God's 
goodness. "God," he says, "exceedingly abounds in 
his goodness to us ; and will not be weary, until right- 
eousness and peace meet ; and until he hath brought 
forth a glorious work in this poor kingdom." 

No sooner were his troops rested, than he hurried on 
to Langford House, near Salisbury, and summoned it 
to surrender. . Not caring to hazard the assault of a 
man to whom walls and castles offered no impediment, 
it hauled down its banner. Scarcely stopping to receive 
its submission, he spurred forward in pursuit of Lord 
Wentworth, who was at the head of a band of royalists. 
Overtaking him at Bovey Tracy, he relieved him of 500 
prisoners and six standards ; then wheeling about, joined 
Fairfax; when the two together stormed Dartmouth, and 
took it. 

It was now the middle of winter ; yet the campaign 
was urged on with vigor ; and these two commanders 



1045.] the king's movements. 139 

pressed after Lord Hopton, commander-in-chief of the 
forces in the West ; and came up with him, entrenched 
at Torrington. This was in February, 1646. Hopton 
made a gallant defence, but was finally routed ; though 
not till he had been unhorsed, and wounded in the face 
with a pike. Prince Charles, now fifteen years of age, 
whom his father, as before stated, sent hither as gen- 
eralissimo of the forces, had fled the approaching 
storm, and taken refuge, with several noblemen, in the 
isle of Scilly. The gallant Hopton soon after retired 
" beyond seas," where he lived and died in poverty. 

The king was now in a desperate case. During the 
past summer, he had left Ragland Castle, to go to the re- 
lief of Goring ; but being discouraged by the dissensions 
among the officers, and the character of the new levies, 
he retired to Wales. Here, rousing himself to make 
another great effort for his kingdom, he gathered around 
him what soldiers he could ; and departed for the North 
to join Montrose, who was still victorious in Scotland. 
Traversing Shropshire, Staffordshire, Derbyshire, and 
Nottinghamshire, he safely reached Yorkshire ; calling 
on all loyal gentlemen to rally to his standard, and go 
with him to the aid of Montrose. But the battle of 
Naseby was too fresh in their memories, in that quarter, 
and old Lesley's Scottish horse were too near, to allow 
them to show much enthusiasm. 

Charles then abandoned his design of going to Scot- 
land; and, with fifteen hundred men, again passed 
through the centre of his kingdom, and arrived safely 
at Oxford He had been here but two days, when 



140 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

lie heard of Montrose's astonishing victories — Both well, 
Glasgow, and Edinburgh, had all opened their gates to 
him. Elated by the news, he again, August 31st, set 
out for Scotland. But his sudden energy gave way; 
and hearing of the investment of Bristol, he said he must 
return and succor it. He, however, left Rupert to his 
fate ; and repaired to Ragland Castle, to talk over mat- 
ters again with the Marquis of Worcester. He had 
been here but a day or two, when he was astounded 
with the news of the fall of Bristol. He immediately 
wrote a reproachful letter to Rupert, which produced 
a coldness between them ; and it was with the greatest 
difficulty the latter could appease his royal master. 

Gloomy and desponding, Charles once more turned 
his eyes towards Scotland and the victorious Montrose ; 
and he determined to hasten thither. But it was neces- 
sary first to relieve Chester, now closely besieged : for 
since Bristol had fallen, there was no other port in which 
troops from Ireland, the only resource except that of 
Montrose left him, could be safely landed. With this 
resolution, he started off for the Welsh mountains : but, 
overtaken on the way by the republicans under the 
command of Poyntz, he was, after a sharp encounter, 
so roughly handled, that he turned back disconsolate 
It was well he did; for Montrose was no longer at 
the head of an army. His brilliant successes over the 
Covenanters had ended : — completely routed at Phillips 
haugh by Lesley, he was now a fugitive like the king 

Thus, prop after prop gave way under the despairing 
monarch; and, uncertain which way to direct his steps, 



1645.] CHARLES TURNS TO PARLIAMENT. 141 

he finally proceeded to Norwich, one of the few strong 
places that still held out for him. But he had only gone 
into a divided and mutinous army; a part of which 
soon marched away in anger. He was here, while 
Cromwell's cannon were playing on Basing House, and 
his victorious troops storming over the chief towns in 
his kingdom. But being pressed by Poyntz, with the 
parliamentary troops, he, in the beginning of November, 
was compelled again to flee. Accompanied by only 
four or five hundred cavaliers; with his beard shaved 
to complete his disguise, he left the town at eleven 
o'clock, and travelled night and day, till he reached Ox- 
ford. Here, to swell his anguish, and press him deeper 
and deeper in the flood that now, without let or hind- 
rance, swept over his devoted head, came, in rapid suc- 
cession, the news of the victories of Fairfax and Crom- 
well, which we have been describing. Humbled and 
helpless as a child, he asked his counsellors what should 
be done. They advised him again to open negotiations 
with parliament ; and finding no other resource left 
him, he consented ; and commissioners were appointed. 
But parliament was far from being eager to nego- 
tiate with him — their relative positions had changed ; 
besides, a new set of members had come in, less 
favorable to the royal interests, among whom were Lud- 
low, Ireton, Admiral Blake, Algernon Sidney, and 
Hutchinson. The progress of the war had also es- 
tranged, still farther, the two parties ; animosities had 
assumed a more violent character, and parliament 
pressed harder and harder on royalist noblemen, and 



142 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Irish papists. No quarter was given to the latter 
taken under arms, and they were slain by scores; 
and the revolution which had commenced so mildly, 
now covered with blood, began to look grim and 
monster-like. Still Cromwell, Fairfax, and the chief 
officers, maintained their high character ; and held in 
check by their integrity, the increasing violence — a 
violence ever engendered by a revolution. But the 
treaty of the king with the Irish, and his negotiations 
with the pope, and the plan to throw a large papist 
army on the shores of England ; which had all been dis- 
covered and published this fall, tended to swell still 
higher the popular indignation, and destroy all confi- 
dence on the part of parliament, in his integrity and 
truth. 

But one hope still remained to Charles— his enemies 
were divided, and out of their contentions capital 
might be made. The Scotch army was grumbling 
and discontented — the Independents and Presbyte- 
rians plotted against each other ; and so he, unable 
longer to practice his diplomacy abroad, ventured still 
to press his proposals on parliament. 

During the spring of 1646, he corresponded both with 
the Presbyterians and Independents — now scheming 
with Vane, and now secretly holding out large pro- 
mises to the Presbyterian leaders. The Scotch, also, 
received a share of his attention ; and the king thought, 
it would go hard with him, if he could not get some 
foot-hold in one or other of the parties. 

It was in this month (March), that Lord Astley, 



1646.] DEFEAT OF LORD ASTLEY. 143 

who commanded the only large body of troops left 
to the king, was utterly routed in Gloucestershire, 
and the last vestige of resistance removed. The 
old veteran struggled nobly in this his last battle ; 
and after it was ever, and he a prisoner, he was so 
fatigued that he could scarcely walk. The pity of 
the soldiers was moved by his venerable appearance; 
and wishing to honor the grey hairs they had seen 
streaming in the thickest of the fight, brought him a 
drum to rest upon. Sitting down, the old noble ex- 
claimed — " Gentlemen, you have now done your work, 
and may go to play, unless you will fall out with your- 
selves.'" 

The next day the king sent a message to parlia- 
ment, offering to give up all his garrisons, disband 
his troops, and again take up his residence in White- 
hall. Nothing can show more strikingly his confi- 
dence in the integrity of his enemies, than this offer. 
After deluging the kingdom in blood, and plotting 
their ruin — after practising duplicity, falsehood, and 
treachery, (enough to wreck any cnaracter but that 
of a king,) he offered voluntarily to put himself in 
their power, requiring only the guarantee of their 
word. But this very generous act parliament could 
not properly appreciate ; and penetrating, at once, the 
infamous design at the bottom, viz., to be where he 
could take advantage of their dissensions ; forbade any 
one to receive, or visit, him. The most violent mea- 
sures were adopted — all public meetings were pro- 
hibited, and malcontents, and suspected persons, 



144 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ordered immediately to leave London. Soon after, 
it was decreed, that whoever should attempt to enter 
the city, from one of the royalist towns, without a 
passport, or hold any intercourse with the king, 
should be put to death. Men began to tremble be- 
fore this revolutionary government, which could pass 
so quickly from requests to commands, and assume 
so stern and terrible an aspect. 

While things were in this position, Fairfax and 
Cromwell, returning victorious from the West, drew 
rapidly on towards Oxford. Their banners were 
already within sight of the place; and, like a scor- 
pion girt with fire, the unhappy king knew not which 
way to turn. But danger pressed : a few more days 
and every crevice would be closed, and he be compelled 
to surrender as a prisoner of war. In this dilemma, he 
resolved to throw himself into the Scottish camp, 
and trust his fortune with the solemn Covenanters. 
The religious dissensions which prevailed between 
them and the parliament prompted him to this course. 
Although the Presbyterians had obtained most of their 
demands, they could not wring from the Indepen- 
dents the concession that presybtery was of divine 
right, which placed parliament and the assembly 
of divines in direct collision. The Independents, in 
cases of excommunication and church discipline, 
allowed an appeal to parliament — thus mixing up 
civil and religious matters. To complete the disgust 
of the Scotch Covenanters, who regarded the denial 
of the divine rights of presbytery as rank heresy — 



1646.] the king's flight. 145 

parliament, now much influenced by the Indepen- 
dents, showed great forbearance towards dissenters of 
all classes from the Presbyterian Church. 

Knowing how the Scotch felt, and having received 
some general vague promises of protection, the king 
resolved to place himself in their hands, hoping that 
his presence in their midst, would kindle their loyalty, 
and enlist them in his favor. So, on the 27th of 
April, at midnight, accompanied only by Dr. Hudson, 
a clergyman, and Ashburnham, he, in disguise as a 
servant of the latter, passed through the gates of Oxford, 
and took the road to London. As he came in sight of his 
former capital, he paused and hesitated long about enter- 
ing it, and flinging himself on the mercy of parliament. 
But, at length, he mournfully turned his horse's head 
northward, and after nine days weary wandering, arriv- 
ed in the Scottish camp. The Earl of Leven, and 
other officers, affected surprise at his arrival ; but re- 
ceived him with great respect. A messenger was im- 
mediately despatched to parliament, announcing the 
king's presence in the army. 

Cromwell, who had started for London the Wednes- 
day before the king left Oxford, was in hi, seat when the 
news was received. Arriving in the city, the entire 
population had poured forth to meet him — the members 
of parliament rose as he entered the House — the Speaker 
pronounced an eulogium upon his acts : and a vote of 
" hearty thanks," for " his great and many services," 
was passed. 

Previous to this, in February, an annuity of £2,500, 
7 



146 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

or more than $ 12,000, had been voted him, towards 
the payment of which, the estates of the Earl ot 
Worcester, Lord Herbert, Sir John Somerset and 
his sons, in the county of Southampton, were made 
over to him. 

When he returned to parliament, he considered the 
war closed; and hence, was prepared to plunge into 
the chaos of political strife, and prevent the govern- 
ment from rendering null and void what he had 
obtained by his arms. 

Soon after, came out the letter of Charles to the 
Duke of Ormond, his lieutenant in Ireland, written 
just before he left Oxford, in which he stated that 
he had gone to the Scotch, on the strength of their 
promise to support his claims. The Scotch, alarmed at 
this implied charge of bad faith on their part, towards 
parliament, instantly, in strong northern dialect, pro- 
nounced the declaration " a most damnable untruth." 



CHAPTER VI. 

BETWEEN THE CIVIL WARS FROM THE SPRING OF 1646, 
TO THAT OF 1648. 

Struggle between the Presbyterians and Independents — Negotiations 
with the King — Bargain of Parliament with Scotland — The King 
Given up — The Presbyterians Resolve to Overthrow Cromwell, and 
the Independents — Successful Plot of Cromwell to Carry off the 
King — The Army Refuses to Disband, and Remonstrates with Parlia- 
ment — Marches on London — Consternation of the People — Expul- 
sion of the Eleven Members, and Occupation of London by the 
Troops — Triumph of the Independents — New Character of the Re- 
volution — Slanderers of Cromwell — Interview of the King with His 
Children — Noble Attempt of Cromwell to Induce the King to Ac- 
cept the Throne under Restrictions which Should Secure the 
Liberties of the People — Denounced by the Army for It-Discovers 
the Treachery of the King — His Flight — Mutiny in the Army 
— Quelled by Cromwell — Treaty of the King with the Scotch — 
Anger of the Parliament, which Resolves to Settle the Nation with- 
out Him — Cromwell Consults the Leaders as to the Form of Gov- 
ernment to be adopted — Commencement of the Insurrection — 
Mob in London — Presbyterians again Obtain the Ascendency, and 
Cromwell Departs for Wa.es — His Previous Sickness — His Son 
Richard Contracts a Marriage — Prayer-Meeting in the Army. 

From the time of the king's flight from Oxford, 
April, 1646, to May, 1648, the sword of war was 
sheathed in England ; and the army lay quiet, ex- 
cept as it gave its opinion of certain acts of par- 
liament, or served to check its tyianny. During these 



148 OLIVER CROMWELL 

two years, political and religious affairs were in inex- 
tricable confusion. Between the king, and parliament, 
and Presbyterians, and Independents, everything got 
reduced to chaos. In parliament, the Presbyterians 
and Independents struggled against each other, as 
the Girondists and Mountain in the French conven- 
tion. At first, the great question was, what should be 
done with the king, then in the Scottish camp. The 
Scotch besought his majesty to subscribe to the cove- 
nant, and end the troubles of his distracted kingdom — 
nay, even went so far as to send a clergyman to 
convert him. The parliament declared that the 
Scotch had nothing to do with their lawful sovereign, 
and were bound to give him up. The latter replied, 
that he was their prince, as well as that of England. 
Parliament then endeavored to get rid of the Scot- 
tish army altogether; and mutual recriminations and 
revilings, threatened an open rupture. All this pleased 
the king, and excited his hopes; for, with the assist- 
ance of one or the other party, he fondly believed 
he should be able again to mount the throne. 

At length, in July, parliament sent proposals to 
him, on the acceptance of which, he could be rein- 
stated in power. But, like the sybil's book, he found 
that, with every rejection of the hard conditions, 
some lines he wished to retain were torn oi.it, while 
the price remained the same. He was now required 
to subscribe to the covenant — to abolish the Episco- 
pal Church — surrender to parliament, for twenty years, 
the whole military power of the kingdom — exclude 



1646.] PROPOSALS TO THE KING. 1-19 

seventy of his personal friends from any amnesty- 
and, lastly, to grant, that all persons who had fought 
in his behalf, should be ineligible to any public office, 
unless at the pleasure of parliament. Charles had 
never before pondered such hard conditions. Still his 
friends urged him to accept them — even his wife, 
in France, threw in her entreaty; but humbled and 
helpless as he was, he could not consent to un- 
crown himself so utterly, and seal his own dis- 
honor, in the sight of the world. The partial con- 
cessions wrung out of him, by the entreaties of his 
friends, would not answer : parliament would have the 
whole, or nothing. He, therefore, rejected the pro 
posals, to the great delight of the Independents, who 
feared nothing so much as a coalition between him 
and the Presbyterians. The latter were proportiona- 
bly crest-fallen; for they saw no way to make a 
compact with the king, which the people would not 
repudiate. 

Thus matters stood with parties in parliament, while 
the two kingdoms were quarreling about the disposal 
of his majesty's person. In the meantime, the king was 
treated with the utmost respect; and he, in turn, at- 
tended the Presbyterian meetings, and showed all 
proper decorum to the ministers. His fallen great- 
ness touched the sympathy of the people; and, on 
one occasion, a clergyman at Newcastle, whither he 
had been carried, took, for his text, that passage in 
2d Samuel, beginning, "And, behold, all the men 
pf Israel came to the king, and said to him, Why 



1 50 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

have our brethren, the men of Judah, stolen thee 
away, and have brought the king, and his household, 
and all David's men with him, over Jordan/' &c* 
At another time, the preacher, in his presence, giving 
out the psalm — 

" Why dost thou, tyrant, boast thyself 
The wicked deeds to praise ?" — 

the king arose, and called for the one commencing — 

" Have mercy, Lord ! on me, I pray, 
For men would me deceive ;" 

which the sympathizing audience immediately sung. 
These, however, were mere expressions of feeling 
from powerless men. His enemies kept resolutely on 
their course. 

At length, the Scotch parliament decreed, that the 
king should be set at liberty, and sent to London : 
but the assembly of divines countermanded this order, 
and parliament submitted. They declared it wicked 
and impolitic, to release a monarch, whose hatred to 
the covenant was so great, that he would not sign it, 
even to purchase back his throne. 

The matter was finally adjusted in a more business- 
like way. The Scots wanted indemnity for the ex- 
penses of the war they had carried on for their sister 
kingdom; and parliament longed to get possession of 
the king. The former demanded nearly £700,000, 
which the parliament cut down to £400,000 — half 
to be paid immediately, and the remaining portion in 

* Vide Clarendon, Book X., 602. 



1647.] THE KING GIVEN UP. 151 

two separate instalments. Nothing was said about 
the person of the king, in this agreement ; but it was 
perfectly well understood, that he was to be surren- 
dered on the reception of the money. Skippon, with 
a strong escort, took charge of the £200,000, which was 
conveyed in thirty-six carts to the Scottish head-quarters. 
About the same time, January 6, 1647, the commis- 
sioners of the Scotch parliament arrived, with an 
order from that body, to have the king surrendered up 
to the English parliament. Charles was playing chess, 
when the letter announcing the fact was delivered to 
him ; but, without manifesting any emotion, he quietly 
laid it aside, and finished the game. A few days after 
he was handed over to the English troops, sad took his 
departure for Nottingham. On his way, the people 
afflicted with the king's evil, crowded aro md him, to 
receive his touch; and many demonstrations of sympa- 
thy and allegiance served somewhat to lighten his sor- 
rows. Arrived at Nottingham, the head-qnarters of 
Fairfax, the latter went out to meet him, and dismount- 
ing, kissed his hand, then rode respectfully tyr his side 
into the town. On his departure for Holmbj the next 
day, he said that Fairfax " was a man of hoir r, for he 
had kept his word with him" — a compliment j*ot one 
of the king's enemies could reciprocate. 

ATTEMPT TO CRUSH THE ARMY. 

This was on the 16th of February; and, soot after, 
parliament passed a law establishing the Presb) >rian 



152 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

form of church government. It was also resolved, 
that the army should be disbanded, except twelve thou- 
sand, who had been destined for Ireland to aid the 
persecuted Protestants, and those necessary for gar- 
risons and police regulations. Fairfax, whom they 
were unable to remove, was to have no officer under 
him of higher rank than a colonel, and he not a 
member of parliament ; and even these subordinates 
were required to conform to the Presbyterian Church, 
and sign the covenant. This was a bold push; and 
Cromwell saw, at once, its object. The Presbyte- 
rians, by the recent elections, had regained their ascen- 
dancy; and, were now determined to make good use 
of their power, and crush the Independents at one 
blow. Under pretence of rooting out heresies and 
schisms almost endless, they endeavored to get rid ot 
the Independent army, now their chief fear. There 
was sufficient lawlessness of belief, no doubt, to de- 
mand some action, if they would not see rampant, 
radicalism overturn everything stable and orderly: 
but, in this movement, they struck at the good and 
bad alike. Days of fasting and prayer were de- 
creed, to show that religious zeal lay at the bottom 
of the despot' c measure ; but the army was not to be 
deceived. 

While such portentous clouds were gathering over 
the party of Oliver, we hear little of him. He, 
too, was for order ; but not for that which classed 
him, and the brave officers who had toiled with him 
over so many battle-fields, with the disorderly. In 



1647.] HIS SKILLFUL MANAGEMENT. 153 

the oppressive rigor with which the Presbyterian gov- 
ernment began to persecute all dissenters, he saw but 
episcopacy under a new name. If this was to be 
the final " settlement of the nation," he had fought in 
vain ; and liberty of conscience had been only a word 
with which to beguile true-hearted men into the con- 
flict. That he, with his deep penetrating glance, fath- 
omed all this, and resolved to thwart it, no one can 
doubt. The votes, it is true, were against him in parlia- 
ment ; but the army was not yet disbanded, and would 
not be till he gave the word. He had powerful friends 
there whom the soldiers adored — the gallant Lam- 
bert, the stern Ireton, and Hammond, and Pride, and 
Rainsborough, and others; and more than all, the love 
of himself, still strong in those brave hearts. What 
conferences he had with them and what plans were pro- 
posed we know not — reliable history is silent on this 
part of his life, but we soon find the army petitioning 
parliament. First came a mild and respectful petition, 
signed by fourteen officers, asking for arrears of pay, 
before going to Ireland. The parliament resented this as 
an affront, and rebuked the army. A sterner petition 
followed, addressed not to parliament, but to Fairfax, 
declaring that no one should go to Ireland against his 
will, and still demanding pay. Fairfax was commanded 
to put a stop to these proceedings, wh eh he promised 
to do. 

Meanwhile, the necessary steps towards disbanding 
the troops were resumed — the corps for Ireland was 

farmed, and Skippon and Massey appointed to command 

7# 



i 54 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

it. But when the commissioners went to announce this 
decree at Saffron Walden, the head-quarters of the 
army, two hundred officers assembled at Fairfax's 
house, and boldly told them that though they respected 
and loved Skippon, they would have their old and w r ell 
tried commanders, "Fairfax and Cromwell," or none. 
A fortnight after this, a hundred and forty-one officers 
sent a petition to parliament, justifying their course, 
and declaring, that although they were soldiers, they 
were still citizens of the commonwealth, and had a right 
to act for its interests. On the heels of this petition 
came another, w T hich Skippon immediately read to the 
astonished parliament. It was brought by three private 
soldiers, and contained the absolute refusal of eight regi- 
ments of horse to serve in Ireland. It boldly accused 
the leaders of the measure of being tyrants, whose only 
design was to divide the soldiers from the officers they 
loved. The announcement of this open revolt, and this 
stern accusation, fell like a thunderbolt on the Presby- 
terians. The three soldiers were immediately sum- 
moned before the House. "Where was this letter 
got up?" asked the Speaker. "At a meeting of the 
regiments," was the reply. "Who wrote it?" "A 
council of delegates chosen by the regiments." "Did 
your officers sanction it?" "But few of them knew 
anything about it." He then asked them if they were 
ever cavaliers. They replied they were not; that 
they had been in the army from the battle of Edgehill 
down ; and one of them stepping forward, said he had 
been wounded five times in one battle, and appealed tc 



1647.] ANGER OF THE ARMY. 155 

Skippon for the truth of his statement. The general 
remembered the brave fellow, whom he had succored 
while bleeding on the field. To the question respecting 
the accusation of tyranny, they replied they were mere 
agents, and had nothing to do but bear back the answer 
of the House.* The smothered indignation then broke 
forth, and threats were hurled against the refractory 
regiments. Ludlow says that in the midst of this tumult, 
Cromwell, who was next him, bent over and whispered, 
" these men (referring to the Presbyterian leaders) will 
never leave till the army full them out by the ears" 
Significant language and somewhat prophetic — the full 
scope of which the prophet, perhaps, knew better than 
anybody else. 

The anger of parliament, at length, gave way to 
alarm, for the army was evidently banding together 
against it ; — already had it erected a sort of independent 
government, in the shape of two councils — one com- 
posed of officers — the other, a kind of lower house of 
adjutators, as they were called, and chosen by the private 
soldiers to represent their interests. Added to this, was 
the report that it had made proposals to the king. 
Something must be done immediately, and so in May 
two months' pay was voted to the troops who would 
disband — a general amnesty decreed to all offenders 
during the war, and money appropriated to the widows 
and families of soldiers. Cromwell, Ireton, Skippon 
and Fleetwood, favorite generals in the army, were ap- 
pointed commissioners to carry out these measures. 

* Vj le Rushworth, Whitelocke, and others. 



1 56 OLIVER CROMWELL 

After a fortnight's labor, they returned with written 
articles of agreement proposed by the army. Parlia- 
ment thanked Cromwell for the manner in which he 
had discharged his duty ; but instead of acting on the 
articles submitted, passed regulations of its own, and. 
despatched commissioners to head-quarters to carry 
them out, and thus effect a final settlement. But the 
conditions did not suit the army. Eight w r eeks' pay had 
been voted them ; — they wanted " eight times eight," and 
would not disband without it. 

The commissioners found all in commotion — regi- 
ments, whose officers attempted in vain to quell them, 
were seen, without leaders, marching with colors flying 
to those who stood firm against the parliament. The 
money sent to pay the troops who should disband 
peaceably, was seized — the soldiers clamored for their 
rights, and demanded that a general meeting should be 
called, where their grievances might be listened to. A 
council of officers was immediately assembled, who 
voted almost unanimously, that the decrees of parlia- 
ment were unjust ; and appointed a grand meeting of all 
the troops. It took place near Newmarket, June 6th, 
and the soldiers, after much haranguing, praying and 
agitation, entered into a solemn covenant to defend 
themselves against the oppressive acts of parliament. 

Meanwhile, the king was at Holmby, ready to take 
advantage of these dissensions, and league himself with 
either party, which would best secure his own advance- 
ment. 



1 647.] SEIZURE OF THE KING. 157 



THE KING SEIZED. 

Bui, on the 2d day of June, there occurred a singular 
interruption to his quiet life. It was a pleasant summer 
day, and he was out in the open country, about two 
miles from Holmby, playing at bowls on Althorpe 
down, when suddenly a stranger, in the uniform of 
Fairfax's guards, was seen standing in the midst of the 
parliamentary commissioners who had accompanied 
him to his pastime. While they were questioning him, 
the news came that a large body of horse was approach- 
ing Holmby. The stranger was asked if he had heard 
of them. "/ saw them yesterday," he replied, "not 
thirty miles off." On this, all mounted in haste and 
galloped back to Holmby, the gates of which were im- 
mediately shut. The report was true. One cornet 
Joyce, apparently without orders, had sallied out of 
Oxford, with five hundred troopers at his back, to seize 
the king, and carry him by force, to the army. He 
arrived at midnight before the castle, and demanded 
admission. Some show of resistance was made at first, 
but the garrison, after a little conversation with the 
soldiers outside, lowered the portcullis and opened the 
gates, and those five hundred horsemen came clattering 
into the courtyard, and dismounted as quietly as if in 
their own barracks. 

The castle was in the bold cornet's hands, and the 
commissioners, after some hours parley, gave up all 
idea of resistance. At ten o'clock that night, Joyce 



158 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

demanded to see the king. He was told that he was 
in bed. " I don't care," he replied, " I must see him ;" 
and with a cocked pistol in his hand, he proceeded to 
the apanment of Charles. The guards at the door 
refused him entrance, at which Joyce grew indignant. 
Sharp words and threats passed between them, which 
roused the king, who ordered him to be admitted. He 
then entered into a long conversation with Joyce; and 
finding how matters stood, bade him good-night, pro- 
mising, if the soldiers confirmed his statements, to go 
with him the next morning. In the morning, Joyce 
drew up his squadrons in the castle yard, and then pro- 
ceeded to the king's apartment. Charles met him at 
the top of the stairs, and asked him by what authority 
he pretended to seize him. He replied, by that of the 
army. The king told him that was not legal, and 
inquired if he had a written order from Fairfax. Joyce 
still replying indefinitely, the king said, "Come, Mr. 
Joyce, be frank with me, and tell me where is your 
commission ?" " There it is, sir," he replied, pointing 
to the court yard below. " Where ?" repeated the 
king. " There, sir ;" and the king saw the dark ranks 
of his followers drawn up in perfect order, and waiting 
their leader's commands. " Your instructions are writ- 
ten in very legible characters," said Charles ; " 'tis truly 
a fair commission — you have as handsome a company 
as I have seen for a great while." He then asked 
where he was to be carried. " To Oxford," saia Joyce. 
The king objecting to this place, as well as to Cam- 
bridge, he w as taken, at his own request, to Newmarket 



THE KING WITH THE ARMY. 159 

Joyce immediately despatched a messenger to London 
to announce his success to Cromwell, or, in his absence, 
to Arthur Haselrig or Col. Fleetwood. The latter 
received it: for Cromwell had already departed for 
head-quarters, where he arrived before the king. 

Parliament was astounded at the news; and the 
whole kingdom thrown into a state of alarm. "The 
king is with the army, and the army is against par- 
liament !" such was the startling fact that pressed itself on 
every man's attention. The officers who were members 
of the House, were immediately ordered to the head of 
their regiments: Cromwell, as already seen, had not 
waited for commands ; and on the same day that the 
vote was carried, held an interview with the king, at 
head-quarters. Fairfax was troubled to find Charles in 
his custody ; and demanded to know by whose authority 
he had been seized. " By mine," said Ireton ; " I gav*e 
orders that the king should be seized at Holmby, not 
brought off." " It was necessary," said Cromwell, " or 
the king would have been seized by parliament." Two 
days after, the officers presented themselves, in a body, 
to the king — most of them kissing his hand : but Oli- 
ver and Ireton sternly stood aside. 

No sooner had Cromwell seen how things were settled 
at head-quarters, than he, according to Guizot, hastened 
back to parliament, knowing that a storm was gathering 
over his head. When he took his seat in the House, 
every eye was turned upon him ; and every soul felt that 
he was at the bottom of this deep-laid plan — so deep, 
that no proof of the rea author could be obtained. 



100 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Grimston arose and boldly accused him of designing to 
employ the army against parliament ; and brought for- 
ward two officers, who testified that he had said, the 
House of Commons must be purged, and " that the army 
alone could do it." Upon this, Cromwell made a speech, 
declaring his innocence, with tears and sobs, and the 
most solemn protestations ; which so wrought upon the 
House, that it dropped the prosecution. 

This whole affair of Cromwell's accusation and de* 
fence, making him oat a hypocrite, liar and perjurer, as 
given by Guizot, is quoted by him from a note in Har- 
ris's life of Cromwell. We took some pains to trace the 
statement to its source ; and found, at last, that it rested 
alone on Mr. Grimston's — the accuser's — declaration. 
It bears on its face the evidence of falsehood; not 
only from its being inconsistent with the character 
of Cromwell, but also from the silence of other his- 
torians respecting it. Such men as Hume and Cla- 
rendon would not have omitted so marked an evi- 
dence of his duplicity and falsehood. Besides, his 
enemies have never given him credit for being 
an orator; nay, on the contrary, pronounce him a 
heavy speaker: yet here, he completely deludes and 
masters his enemies by his consummate acting. If 
anything more were wanting to throw utter discredit 
upon this account, as given in all its details, by Guizot 
and others, it would be found in the fact that no traces 
of it are left on the records of the House : it rests solely 
on Grimston's after assertions. 

At till events, he was with the army, June 7th, at the 



1647.] GRAND ARMY MEETING. 161 

reception of the king, and again June 10th, at its great 
rendezvous, on Triploe Heath, near Cambridge. 

A day of fasting and prayer, set apart to ask God's 
direction in the course they should adopt, preceded this 
grand gathering of the soldiers. At the appointed time 
twenty-one thousand men marched to the place of ren- 
dezvous, to decide on the acts of parliament. It was a 
solemn sight there on the summer morning, those 
twenty-one thousand men, assembled to demand their 
rights. As they stood in perfect order, Fairfax, with the 
commissioners from parliament, rode to the head 
of the regiments to know if they acquiesced in the 
votes of parliament. The question was submitted to 
each regiment separately, to be decided by ballot. 
Parliament had scarce one on its side; and when 
the commissioners read the result aloud, a deep murmur 
ran through the host, and then the shout of " Justice ! 
Justice!" rolled over the field and shook the deep vault 
of heaven. 

That very afternoon the order to march was given, 
and the army began to move towards London, while a 
long letter, setting forth their grievances, and signed 
by thirteen of the principal officers, was despatched to 
parliament. This letter, throughout, bears the stamp 
of Cromwell's mind. . First came a plain statement of 
facts ; then a defence of their motives and conduct, and 
last of all, a solemn warning, and a hint about London 
being given up to the soldiers, &c, which made the 
city turn pale, and honorable members tremble In their 
seats. 



4 62 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

No one can doubt that Oliver was at the bottom 
of all this. He saw, in the first attempt of the Presby- 
terians to disband the army, the plan to crush himself 
and friends and liberty clearly developed; and he 
tesolved to thwart it, not by long speeches in parlia- 
ment, but steady, resolute action. The organization of 
the two councils in the army, was evidently his work ; 
for, through his friends in these, he could reach every 
man, and yet not be discerned. So, also, was the forci- 
ble removal of the king his doings, though the exact 
extent of his agency in the matter has never been 
known. He probably induced Ireton to take the 
responsibility of sending Joyce to watch Charles at 
Holmby Castle, and baffle the designs of the Presby- 
terians, while at the same time he caused an intimation 
to be conveyed to the bold cornet, that he was to bring 
his majesty away to the army. The Presbyterians had 
resolved to get him in their power, and to this end had 
passed a vote, requesting him to take up his residence 
in Oatlands castle, near London. Cromwell, who saw r 
at once the advantage this would give his enemies, 
determined to prevent it, and seize the king himself. 
From his seat in parliament, he looked around him, and 
reaching out one hand towards his sovereign, and the 
other towards the army, he had them both in his power 
before his foes were aware that he had made the first 
movement. By his adroit management, he succeeded 
in quieting all suspicion in the House, until his plans 
were fully matured ; then throwing aside the mask of 
respectfulness he had so long worn over a heart burst- 



1647.] HIS POWER OVER OTHERS. 103 

ing with scorn and indignation, he placed himself at 
the head of the army, and pointing with his sword 
towards London, gave the order to march. 

Could this masterly scheme, from the first initial step. 
to its final consummation, "be unravelled, we should get a 
new insight into the amazing intellect, sleepless indus- 
try, and untiring energy of this wonderful man. He 
had not to do with supple knaves, to whom a fail 
prospect of success was a sufficient motive ; but stern 
republicans, clear-headed thinkers, and conscientious 
men. How he succeeded in harmonizing the con- 
flicting elements, and binding together, as one man, 
characters so diametrically opposite, and finally concen- 
trating all the energy of that terrible army in his single 
will, must ever remain a mystery to those historians who 
underrate his intellect. To account for it on the ground 
of cunning and hypocrisy, augurs either a bigot, rendered 
incapable of judgment by prejudice, or a mind too weak 
to estimate the men and events of that period. Grant- 
ing he was false and treacherous as Judas, it furnishes no 
explanation of his astonishing success. Mere duplicity 
never yet combatted a parliament and army, and single- 
handed struggled against the machinations of men in 
power, and came off triumphant. The truth is, Crom- 
well possessed a grasp of mind seldom equalled. He 
not only easily penetrated the plans woven directly 
about his feet, but saw farther than all other men of his 
time — and slowly gathering into his mighty hand the 
tangled threads of the revolution, at length, swayed the 
kingdom by his touch. In one respect, he bears a 



101 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

striking resemblance to Bonaparte and Washington, for 
like them, he took, at a single glance, the measure of 
every man who approached him. He read both their 
weaknesses and capabilities without an effort, and 
knew intuitively what motives to apply, and what use 
to make of them. It was this strange practical sagaci- 
ty that gave him such power over all who approached 
him. He seemed to penetrate their inmost hearts, and to 
command them, because he had a right so to do. The 
subtle Vane, perhaps the greatest diplomatist of his 
time, yielded to his loftier intellect, and the lion-hearted 
Fairfax acknowledged him his superior in the field. 
Ireton and Lambert, the clear-headed lawyers, and able 
and fearless commanders, worked like slaves at his 
behest, and even the turbulent army quailed before his 
master spirit. 

It is amusing to hear the defenders of Charles make 
the sagacity of Cromwell, and the skilful manner in 
which he used the instruments in his hands, evi- 
dences of hypocrisy and guilt. They would have him 
tell Harrison he was a dupe to believe in the second 
advent of Christ, and forbid a free thinker to draw a 
sword in battle ; — indeed, divulge every plan he laid 
to thwart his enemies, and declare beforehand how he 
designed to unravel and defeat their plots, in order to be 
an honest man. In short, he must not employ a single 
wicked person in his service, or make the least use of 
his knowledge of other men's characters, to bend them 
1o his purpose, if he would escape the charge of hypoc- 
risy. Every great and good design musl be abandoned, 



1047.] II IS COURSE JUSTIFIED. 165 

unless weak, or bigoted, or obstinate men, could be 
made to understand and approve it. That is, a man 
cannot resolve on anything beyond the capacity ancl 
virtue of those with whom he is associated ; for, if he 
does, he will be compelled to win them to his views by 
such motives as are adapted to their characters, and 
not by those which govern him. The whole argument 
on this point, is reduced to the simple axiom: " To be a 
diplomatist, is necessarily, to be a dishonest man?' 

Subtle scheming, which has for its ends self-aggrand- 
izement at the sacrifice of justice and mercy, is base 
and criminal; but adroit management, to secure har- 
mony among discordant elements, and union among 
prejudiced and selfish men, is neither. Thus to lull 
parliament into security, while he sprung their own 
plot upon them, and save the army, his friends, and the 
kingdom, by binding the soldiers together in common 
resistance to meditated oppression, were acts only of 
an able statesman and upright leader. Whom did 
he wrong by this successful plan? Not parliament, 
certainly, for it had taken the lead in this war of exter- 
mination — not the king, for he was no more a prisoner 
with the army than with parliament — not the army, for 
it was the victim of injustice and ingratitude — not the 
kingdom, for this step saved both it and its defenders. 
And yet Charles, who never stopped at any duplicity 
— would make a treaty at the same time with the 
Scotch Covenanters and the Irish Papists — the Inde- 
pendents and Presbyterians — break his word to parlia- 
ment, and to the kingdom — caress Cromwell while 



100 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

plotting his destruction, and deluge the realm in blood. 
solely for royal prerogative, and to obtain untrammeled 
power, is declared by his friends to be a saint and a 
martyr. They claim for him the possession of every 
virtue, while they charge his enemies with hypocrisy 
and treachery. Such palpable self-contradiction, argues 
either a great obliquity of the moral sense, or a judg- 
ment strangely perverted by that very prejudice they 
charge on others. 

Thus far, we cannot see how Cromwell could have 
done otherwise than he did, without being untrue to 
himself, to his friends, and the army, and unworthy of 
the power he held. 

THE ARMY MARCHES ON LONDON. 

The letter, called a humble representation, which the 
army sent to parliament, as it took up its line of march 
for London, was despatched on the 14th of June. The 
news of its advance, with Cromwell at its head, spread 
consternation among the inhabitants. Some talked of 
resistance : — Parliament passed votes of condemnation ; 
yet, still it drew slowly on. Concessions were made, 
but they came too late. The pay, so long withheld, 
was voted, and the army ordered to retire; yet, stea- 
dily and sternly it continued to approach. It had 
asked for pay, for justice, and its prayer been denied ; 
and now, when parliament was ready to grant every- 
thing formerly demanded, it boldly accused eleven 



1647.] CHARGE OF OROMWELL. 107 

members — the Presbyterian leaders — of high treason, 
and insisted on their expulsion. *- 

But parliament could not consent to deal its own 
death-blow, and declared that something more than 
vague accusations were required. The ominous an- 
swer to this was, that the first accusations against Laud 
and Strafford, were also vague and general : " In these 
cases," said the army, "you furnished the proofs after- 
wards, so will we do now." Thus passed a fortnight 
of terrible suspense — the army slowly advancing with 
one stern demand in its mouth — the parliament fear- 
ing, hesitating, and remonstrating. Its respectful an- 
swers, sent back in three coaches, with outriders, were 
of no avail. The very slowness with which the army 
advanced, by protracting the suspense, deepened the 
anxiety. 

Between self-immolation, and destruction by Crom- 
well's soldiers, the Presbyterian leaders were tossed, 
like a wrecked mariner, from the rock to the sea, and 
the sea to the rock. The mingled terror and indig- 
nation which mastered parliament during this fearful 
crisis, is powerfully depicted by Holies, one of those 
very leaders whose expulsion was demanded. Speak- 
ing of the army, he says, "They now thunder upon 
us with remonstrances, declarations, letters, and mes- 

* These were Holies, Sir Philip Stapleton, Sir William Waller, 
Sir William Lewis, Sir John Clotworthy, Recorder Glynn, Anthony 
Nichols, (old members,) and General Massey, Colonel Walter Long, 
Colonel Edward Harely, and Sir John Maynard, (new members, who 
had joined the old clique.) 



1G8 OLIVEE CROMWELL. 

sages, every day ; making us vote and unvote, do ana 
undo; and when they have made us do some ugly 
things, jeer us, and say our doing justifies their desiring 
it. We feel as low as dirt : we take all our ordinances 
to pieces, change and alter them according to their minds, 
and, (what is worst of all,) expunge our declaiation 
against their mutinous petition, and cry peccavimus to 
save a whipping." "But," he continues, "all would 
not do. The parliament, thoroughly frightened, is as 
bad as the army. Instead of a generous resistance to 
perfidious servants, vindicating the honor of parlia- 
ment, discharging the trust that rests upon them from 
being ruined, and enslaved to a rebellious army, they 
deliver up themselves and kingdom to the will of their 
enemies, prostitute all to the lust of heady and violent 
men, and suffer Mr. Cromwell to saddle, ride, switch, 
and spur them, at his pleasure." True, Mr. Holies ; 
and even you must confess that a more gallant or stal- 
wart rider than this " Mr. Cromwell," never bestrode an 
unruly and vicious beast. But this poor, divided parlia- 
ment is not all that obeys his steady rein — he has a 
team of twenty thousand resolute men in hand, that 
needs no " switch or spur" to excite into action. With 
this, he is driving full on London, and the crack of his 
whip will soon make England ring. 

But complaints, and votes, and resolutions, would not 
do. The eleven members finding that their time had 
come, voluntarily resigned their places ; or, in other 
words, "asked leave of absence," which was granted 
without any grief or hesitation ; and the army halted 



1847.] MOB ENTERS PARLIAMENT. 1 09 

There it lay, "coiled up round London and the par- 
liament — advancing or receding," according as its de- 
mands were refused or granted. 

Thus matters proceeded till the latter end of July, 
when the Holies declaration, proclaiming all who had 
signed the army petition, enemies of the State, and dis- 
turbers of the public peace, being expunged ; and the 
militia ordinance placing the militia of London in the 
hands of the Presbyterians being revoked, and the army 
paid off, all seemed settled. 

The Presbyterians and Independents were now of 
about equal strength in the House, and mutual con- 
cessions restored apparent harmony. But, at this 
juncture, the former made a sudden and last rally. On 
Monday, July 26th, a tremendous crowd went tumul- 
tously to the House of Parliament, demanding that 
the militia ordinance should be restored, and the eleven 
excluded members recalled. A sudden warlike feel- 
ing had seized the militia, and they declared themselves 
ready to face the enemy. The petition was taken up ; 
but the mob, becoming impatient of the debate, rushed 
to the two halls of parliament, and endeavored to 
force the doors. Kept back for awhile by the swords 
of the members, they, at length, overcame all opposition, 
and entered with their hats on, crying out, "Vote! vote!" 
till the votes they demanded were actually passed, to- 
gether with another, requesting the king to come imme- 
diately to London. The only "No" in the House of 
Commons was that uttered by Ludlow. 

The next morning, parliament had no sooner met, 
8 



170 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

than it adjourned 07 er to Friday. In the meantime 
the two Speakers, and more than sixty of the members,, 
hastened to the army to report matters, and place 
themselves under its protection. They were received 
with enthusiastic shouts, and the columns quickly put 
in motion. On Friday, the remaining members of 
parliament, together with the doomed eleven, met, and 
set about their defence with resolution and energy. 
New Speakers were elected, and forces ordered to 
be raised without delay, and placed under Generals 
Massey and Poyntz. The shops were shut — the drums 
beat to arms, and groups of armed citizens were seen 
hurrying to the place of rendezvous. Fortifications 
were thrown up, barriers erected, and cannon planted 
in the streets. As the parliament, with the train-bands 
of London, formerly met the king's army, so now would 
they meet Cromwell and his troops. For five days the 
city shook with the bustling sound of preparation ; but 
on the 3d of August, Southwark declared it would not 
join in the resistance, and sent petitions to Fairfax for 
protection. General Poyntz came upon the crowd 
assembled around Guildhall, petitioning for peace, and 
in his rage, laid about him with his sword, killing 
several persons. Massey still resolved to make a stout 
defence, and the soldiers maintained a bold attitude. 
But as the scouts, one after another, came galloping in, 
repeating that the army, in solid phalanx, was marching 
straight on the city, and that the heads of the columns 
were almost within striking distance, all courage de- 
serted them, and they resolved to send a letter to the 



1647.] PARLIAMENT SUBDUED. 17i 

General, asking for peace. Resistance was now at an 
end; and on Friday, 6th of August, the army, "three 
deep," Cromwell bringing up the rear, and the soldiers 
wearing sprigs of laurel in their hats, marched silently 
and sternly in, and the scene was ended. 

The eleven members fled, never more to sit in parlia- 
ment. A detachment of horse was quartered in Hyde 
Park, and Cromwell's and Ireton's faithful followers 
guarded every avenue to the House, as these com- 
manders took their seats, and moved and carried, that 
all which had been done by parliament, after the flight 
of the members, was null and void. 

Thus, peaceably, was consummated this sudden 
revolution, which, for a time, threatened a bloody 
termination. There had been alarm, anxiety and hesi- 
tation among all, even officers of the army, but every- 
thing had resulted as Cromwell planned. The flight of 
the members was his suggestion, and their reception by 
the army, the signal he had resolved upon, to commence 
the march on London. 

The triumph of the Independents was now complete, 
and they looked upon Cromwell as the author of it. 
This fixed him deeply in the affections of all who 
claimed liberty of conscience, however opposed their 
own creeds might be to his. 

From this moment, the revolution assumed a new 
and more dangerous character. The long and despe- 
rate struggle between the two parties, now closed, had 
been one of principle — a struggle to decide whether men 
were to be fettered by any religious forms, or to adopt 



172 OLIVER C R M W ELL. 

whatsoever belief pleased them best. The old restraints 
were at once taken off from the human mind, and it 
was allowed to go forth untrammeled and free. The 
effect of this sudden emancipation, w T as at first bewilder- 
ing. To many, it was like blotting out God from the 
universe, and enthroning every man on the seat of 
supreme judgment. The most extravagant notions — ■ 
even those of the levellers, who believed in the equaliza- 
tion of property, were tolerated. In short, the torrent 
of popular feeling was unbound, and whether it would, 
in its vast and sweeping flow, only manure, like the 
floods of the Nile, the earth for a future growth, or 
leave a bleak and barren desert in its track, was a prob- 
lem from which even Cromwell must have turned with 
alarm. England was free — formalism in religion, and 
feudalism in State, were dead or dying ; and a boundless 
prospect opened before all. A republic, with all its un- 
tamed energies, soaring hope, and rash confidence, was 
now inevitable. Reverence for the king was gone 
— parliament stood shorn of its power, and it therefore 
became an anxious question with those who had 
brought about this state of things, what the end would 
be. 

England without a ruler seemed now a probable 
event ; and the after course of Cromwell with the unfor- 
tunate Charles evidently grows out of the difficulties 
this probability suggests. He had humbled the Pres- 
byterians, and the people shouted his praise. He had 
established freedom, but where was it to end. His 
victory alarmed him more than the opposition of his 



1647.] HIS DANGEROUS POSITION. 173 

enemies. He had thrown the reins on the necks 
of the people, bidding them guide themselves ; but 
whither would they guide the State ? He began to com- 
prehend the fact, that freedom is progressive, and to 
fear that power, once bestowed on the people, was irre- 
claimable. He might then well pause and survey the 
prospect around him. First, he had taken up arms 
against the king, solely to bring him to terms with his 
parliament. Unable to effect this, he had broken his 
armies into pieces, and finally seized his person. In 
the meantime, parliament had passed, from its fear of 
the king, to alarm at the disorganizing spirit abroad, 
and the large liberty demanded, tending, as it thought, 
to downright anarchy ; and hence, began to emulate 
Charles in the religious oppression of his subjects. Per- 
ceiving this, Cromwell saw that he must either retire 
and give over the struggle as hopeless, and see the 
fabric he had helped to rear, at the cost of so much 
blood, levelled with the ground, or march his army on 
parliament. Forced, as a man of honor and conscience, 
to the latter course, by the violence of his enemies, just 
as he had been first forced into arms by the violence of 
the king, he gave a mortal blow to the highest legisla- 
tive body of the land. As he saw it expire, however, 
he looked into the blackness that lay beyond its burial 
place. A disordered realm, without a king or govern- 
ment that could be trusted, was the spectacle that 
met his anxious gaze. In this crisis, therefore, he 
turned with a last effort to Charles, and strove man- 
fully to secure the liberty and permaner t peace of the 



174 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

kingdom, and at the same time provide it with a legiti- 
mate sovereign. 

Previous to the movement of the army on London, 
negotiations had been opened with Charles, and pro- 
posals far more favorable than those offered him at 
Newcastle, been submitted. But unwilling to cast 
himself with the republicans, just on the eve of a 
struggle between them and parliament ; and also hoping, 
in the crash that must follow, to obtain, somehow, more 
favorable terms for himself, he would come to no defi- 
nite understanding. 

In the meantime, he asked an interview with his 
children ; and the Dukes of York and Gloucester, aged, 
the one fourteen, and the other seven, and the Princess 
Elizabeth, twelve years of age, met him at Maidstone, 
and passed two days with him at Eversham. Cromwell 
was present at the meeting, and the emotions exhibit- 
ed by the unhappy Charles, completely overcame his 
parental heart. He is said to have shed tears, and de- 
clared that his view's were entirely changed as to the 
goodness of the king. 

This is made the ground of another charge of hy- 
pocrisy against him. His tears, and expressions of 
sympathy, are both declared to have been feigned, and 
intended only for effect. It is curious to observe the 
folly and contradictions into which men run, when 
their judgments are led astray by their feelings. If, 
with the boldness and daring which characterized him, 
lie faces down the king and government, he is pro- 
r'iunced a haughty and unfeeli ig tyrant, governed onlv 



1647.] HIS SLANDERERS. 175 

by lawless ambition. If he throws a cushion at Lud- 
low's head, while discussing matters of State ; or daubs 
Marten's face with the ink he had used in signing the 
death-warrant of Charles, he is called a brute, who has 
not even the refinement to conceal his brutality. To- 
day, a rough, unhewn man, who cannot make a reputable 
speech; to-morrow, so eloquent and overmastering that 
he convinces even his enemies, and disarms hatred 
itself; now a coarse buffoon, and presto, the most fin- 
ished dissembler and dark- minded knave that ever 
outwitted friends and foes : crying over the meeting of 
the king with his children, for effect, when but few 
were present to witness it ; yet taking pains to insult his 
dead body before the whole world, as if on purpose to 
shock its sensibilities — he, according to his prejudiced 
biographers, is the roughest and smoothest, the boldest 
?,nd trickiest, the most childish and the sternest man 
that ever lived. Assuming all shapes — possessed of all 
characters ; a Proteus, a chamelion — an everything, a 
nothing; he cannot look, without intending to deceive; 
or speak a word on religion or politics, without playing 
the hypocrite. Do what he will — say what he will, it is 
all the same. His motives impugned — his conduct 
assailed ; every good act denied, or explained away ; 
and every slander believed ; no man ever yet suffered 
so at the hand of history ; and yet, colossus-like, he rises 
higher and higher, with each succeeding generation. 

The truth is, Cromwell, though relentless as doom, in 
purpose, possessed a heart overflowing with kindness 
to his friends, and especially to his family. His private 



170 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

letters prove this beyond doubt or cavil: and ail the 
parent was moved in him, when he saw those children 
clinging to the neck of their royal father, and that 
lather forgetting he was a king and a prisoner, in the 
joy of once more straining to his breast the offspring of 
his happier days. 

Hitherto, he had seen him only as an enemy of 
liberty, the church, and the people — read his char- 
acter in the haughty face that frowned on parliament, 
when he came to seize the five members ; and thought of 
him as the heartless tyrant, who would wade through 
the blood of his subjects to a despotic throne. This 
burst of tenderness was a new development; and 
appealing, as it did, to his own warm heart, and shooting 
so directly and suddenly across his deep-rooted prejudi- 
ces, and long cherished hate, produced a wonderful 
change in his views, and a strong revulsion of feeling in 
favor of the unhappy monarch. Such a heart, he 
thought, could not be irreclaimably bad, and there must 
still be foothold for reason and appeal. 

This, doubtless, made him more open and resolute in 
his attempts to settle the distracted government on a 
fair and permanent basis, by placing Charles on the 
throne, while he at the same time so bound him by 
restrictions, and checked him ; y powers created for 
purpose, that he could not play the despot. 

Historians cannot agree in the motives which actu- 
ated Cromwell in the negotiations which followed. 
Some say he never was serious in his protestations 
but played the hypocrite throughout ; others, who can- 



I G47.] REASONS FOR HIS CONDUCT. 177 

not see what he was to gain in this, assert that he was 
cautiously feeling his way ; and intent only on his own 
aggrandizement, was resolved to be governed entirely 
by circumstances. Others still, not content with 
making him a hypocrite, a liar, and an ambitious man, 
would fain have us believe him a Judas, who could be 
bought and sold for " thirty pieces of silver ;" and de- 
clare that he was desirous simply to make a good bar- 
gain for himself and personal friends; and hence, 
demanded of the king, as a reward for placing him on 
the throne, the title of Earl of Essex, the order of the 
garter, and the appointment of commander-in-chief of 
the army. This man, who had unlimited control over 
the best-disciplined, and most terrible army, that 
ever trod a battle-field — with power to make and 
unmake parliaments ; nay, held the throne in his firm 
grasp — incurred the hate and suspicion of that very 
army, and seriously endangered his own position, to 
obtain a command which he could have without the 
king, and a title he cared not a farthing for. The most 
extraordinary and senseless reasons for his conduct are 
preferred to the plain and simple one, that he was en- 
deavoring to secure both the peace and liberty of the 
commonwealth at whatever sacrifice to himself. 

After the breaking up of parliament, the army re- 
turned to Putney, and the king was placed in Hampton 
Court, near by. During the months of August and 
September, the utmost excitement prevailed both in the 
parliament and the army. How should the settlement 
of the nation be effected? was the great question ; and 
8* 



i78 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Cromwell, as stated above, seemed to think it could be 
best done by fettering the king's powers, so that he could 
not endanger the liberty of the realm ; and then give 
him to the people as their legitimate sovereign. To 
this end, he became intimate in the king's family. He 
presented his wife, and Mrs. Ire ton, (his daughter 
Bridget married in January, this year,) and Mrs. Whailey, 
his cousin, at court, w T hom the king received with great 
honors. This sudden change in Cromwell's conduct, 
could not but be observed and commented upon. He, 
who, but a few months since was seeking the life of 
Charles on the battle-field, was now seen walking in 
friendly intercourse with him in the park. Surprise 
first, and suspicion afterwards, were openly expressed in 
the city, and in the army. Ardent republicans, religious 
enthusiasts, and radicals of all sorts, were shocked and 
disgusted at this apparently familiar footing of their leader 
with the tyrant. Lilburn, who had left his regiment, 
because he could not learn to be obedient ; and was 
now prisoner in the tower, sent there by the lords, for 
his seditious writings ; at first warned Cromwell as a 
friend, afterwards threatened, and finally denounced 
him, to the agitators. 

The army, as observed, was a sort of republican 
government by itself, and boldly discussed all questions 
of State, and especially the conduct of their leader. 
At length, suspecting their court of agitators (or, 
rather, adjutators), to be more faithful to the officers 
than to themselves, the soldiers ch >se new ones to watch 



1647.] HIS DANGER. 171) 

the latter ; and anarchy was gradually creeping into all 
departments. 

The rationalists who submitted to no authority but 
that of reason ; the levellers who aimed at an entire 
subversion of royalty, nobility, and all government but 
that based on equal rights to every citizen, were 
loud in their denunciations of Cromwell and Ireton. 
The former began to feel the peril of his position, and 
urged vehemently on the king the conditions he pro- 
posed ; conditions, he said, so much preferable to those 
which the parliament offered. Misled by Ashburnham, 
Charles refused, although he still made large promises 
to Cromwell; and believing that he was now indis- 
pensable to one or the other party, said to his friends : 
" I can turn the scale which way I please ; and that 
party must sink which I abandon." " Sire," replied 
Berkley, " a cause so near lost was never recovered on 
easier terms." Cromwell, finding that his conduct was 
fast losing him the confidence of the army, was less 
frequent in his interviews with Charles : but that his 
conduct might not awaken suspicion of his integrity, 
he frankly told the reason ; adding : " If I am an honest 
man, I have done enough to convince his majesty of 
the sincerity of my intentions ; if not, nothing will 
suffice." 

But the aspect of things in the army grew, every day, 
more threatening. Never was Cromwell in such dan- 
ger before. The affection which the soldiers bore 
him nothing but his own desertion could extinguish; 
and this they now more than mistrusted. Societies 



180 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

were formed among them, in which his conduct was 
openly discussed. Still bent on saving the kingdom, 
he braved all, determined to keep his promise with 
the king, until released by the treachery of the latter. 
But he was treading on the verge of a volcano; and it 
behooved him to beware of his steps. True, his emissa- 
ries and spies were everywhere; but nothing could resist 
the tide of feeling that was setting so strongly against 
him. 

To us, Cromwell, amid the perils which now sur- 
rounded him, instead of being a heartless dissembler, 
seems a true patriot, rising in moral grandeur as his dan- 
ger increases. Sustained by his inflexible, fearless, and 
gifted son-in-law Ireton, he determined to hazard every- 
thing personal to secure that peace which, if the present 
attempt failed to obtain, he knew not where to look for. 

Instead of aiming at his own elevation — (to secure 
which he had only to yield to the wishes of the army) — - 
he appears to us nobly breasting the tide of events that 
is bearing him on to certain power; and struggling 
against his fate. The army was all-powerful and radi- 
cal enough, to meet the wishes of the most daring usur- 
per ; yet, instead of wielding it for his own ambition, he 
risked his influence over it for the common welfare, and 
to end a strife which constantlv assumed a more alarming 
character. So sacred did he esteem his promise given 
to the king, that he adhered to him, even when open 
mutiny had broken out in the troops. On the 9th of 
October, five regiments of horse, through their adju- 
tators, drew up a paper, called "The Case of the 



]6i7 ;j the king's treachery. 181 

Army ;" which, nine days after, was presented to Fain 
fax. On the first of November, another paper appeared 
sent out by sixteen regiments ; in which their officers 
were declared traitors to the cause of the people, and 
the latter called upon to rise and turn the parliament 
out of doors : in short, it was demanded that England 
should at once become a republic, with the supreme 
power vested in a House of Commons chosen by the 
suffrages of the whole nation. These papers were sup- 
pressed by order of parliament; but the disaffection 
continued to spread. 

DISCOVERY OF THE KINg's TREACHERY. 

In this crisis of Cromwell's fate, Providence seems to 
have interposed for his rescue; and liberating him from 
his obligations to the king, compelled him to turn, 
once more, to the army. Charles, who had all the while 
been playing a double game with him, (a duplicity 
scarce ever commented upon,) in an evil hour to him- 
self, confessed his treachery, in a private letter to his 
wife. One of Oliver's spies, whom he kept near the 
royal person ; sent him word one day, that a man w r ould 
reach the Blue Boar, in Holborn, that night, on his way 
to Dover, with a letter disclosing the monarch's secret 
designs. The man would come there, with a saddle on 
his head, in the lining of which the letter was sewed up. 
Cromwell and Ireton immediately disguised themselves 
as common soldiers, and proceeded to the tavern ; where 
calling for some beer, they sat down, while a trust} 



J 82 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

servant kept watch at the door. At the hour designated, 
the man appeared, with the saddle on his head. Sudden- 
ly drawing their swords, they rushed upon him, and seiz- 
ing the saddle, ripped it open. Finding the letter, they 
carefully closed up the saddle again ; and telling the 
man, who was ignorant of the trust committed to him, 
that he was an honest fellow ; let him go. 

These two Puritan leaders, Cromwell and Ireton, in 
the garb of private soldiers, at an humble inn, bending 
together over that letter of the king, must have pre- 
sented a picture worthy the study of an artist. How 
those massive features blazed up, as, perusing the evi- 
dence of his monarch's insincerity in his own confes- 
sions — declaring that he preferred to treat with the Scot- 
tish Presbyterians, rather than the army, but. should lean 
to whichever side appeared the strongest ; he at length, 
came to the following sentence — " For the rest, I alone 
understand my position : be entirely easy as to the con- 
cessions I may grant them. When the time comes I shall 
know how to deal with the rogues; and, instead of a 
silken garter, I will fit them with a hempen halter."* 
One may well imagine the fixed, unalterable look, with 
which Oliver gazed on his fearless son-in-law, as he 
finishcl reading, and the terrible resolution which 
sprung to the lips of the latter. They were betrayed 
— shamefully betrayed by the monarch they were ask- 
ing all to reinstate in power. 

Ei?t painful as the discovery was, it at once relieved 
Cromwell from his state of extreme perplexity. Turn- 

* Vide British Statesmen, page 467, Guizot and others. 



1617.] the king's flight. 188 

ing, at once, from the trustless monarch, and from all 
hopes of saving the distracted kingdom through him, 
he boldly threw himself into the wild current he had 
hitherto vainly endeavored to stem. On his good sword, 
and the army not yet irretrievably lost to him, he must 
now rely; and assume the power which his enemies forc- 
ed upon him. An immediate change came over the 
king's prospects — dark hints reached him of intended 
assassination, and warnings to flee his captors. 

In the meantime, Cromwell roused himself to meet 
the perils which environed him. A council had been 
called in the army, to discuss whether it were best 
to dispense with monarchy altogether. Being adjourn- 
ed to the next week, November 6th, he appeared in 
its midst; and abruptly cutting short all debate, de- 
clared that every officer should immediately return to 
the head of his regiment ; and instead of a general 
meeting, which had been agreed on, there should be 
three special meetings in the chief divisions of the 
army. A council was to sit in the interval, and the 
management of affairs be entrusted entirely to Fairfax 
and parliament. 

In the meantime, Charles, filled with alarm at the 
new aspect matters had assumed about him, and the 
secret warnings he received, resolved to flee. He had 
sent a woman, a Mrs. Whorewood, with £500, to con- 
sult a celebrated astrologer of London, respecting the 
course he should adopt. But his fears outran his super- 
stitious belief; and, without waiting the answer of the 
astrologer, he, on the night of the 11th of November 



184 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

departed with a single valet-de-chambre. Stealing 
down a back staircase, he entered the park, bordered by 
an extensive forest, where Ashburnham and Berkley 
were waiting for him with fleet horses. Hastily mount- 
ing, the four fugitives plunged into the woods, and sped 
orf, they scarce knew whither. Not a star was visi- 
ble — dark and angry clouds swept the heavens — the 
rain fell in torrents : and drenched and weary, Charles 
and his companions wandered through the mazes of the 
forest, bewildered and lost. At day-break, however, 
"hey regained the road ; and reaching Sutton, took 
fresh horses, and continued their flight towards South- 
ampton. After much hesitation respecting the course 
they should pursue, they, at length, resolved to take 
refuge in the Isle of Wight, over which Robert Ham- 
mond, a colonel in the infantry, presided as governor. 
But, no sooner was Charles within the castle gates, 
than his fears returned ; and, exclaiming to Ashburn- 
ham, "Oh ! John, John, thou hast undone me !" walked 
up and down his apartment in uncontrollable anguish. 
It was too late, however, to retrace his steps. At 
length, he became more composed, and the next 
morning seemed quite satisfied with the asylum he had 
chosen. 

Cromwell was the first to know of his flight, and im- 
mediately advised parliament of it. Whether he was 
privy to it or not, the stern Puritan, Whalley, who was 
the king's jailor, has not informed us. Nor is it known 
whether the anonymous letters which so worked upon 
his fears, came from his friends, or were sent at the 



1647.] QUELLS THE MUTINY. 185 

instigation of Oliver, to frighten him into an escape. 
There may have been many enthusiastic republicans, 
who, clinging to their leader in unbroken confidence and 
ove, and believing him, under a mistaken sense of duty, 
to be endangering the liberty and safety of the kingdom, 
oy his adherence to the faithless monarch ; endeavored, 
in this way, to separate them. The most probable sup- 
position, however, is that Cromwell, the moment he 
discovered the insincerity of the king, and at the same 
time saw the imminent peril resulting from their con- 
nexion, resolved to get rid of him. Personal fear, he 
knew, would force him to flee ; and believing that France 
would be chosen as the most secure retreat, he expected 
to release himself of so troublesome a burden, and al 
the same time prevent his falling into the hands of 
parliament. 

Hammond immediately reported the arrival of Charles 
to parliament and the army. 

CROMWELL QUELLS THE MUTINY. 

Having thus disposed of his treacherous sovereign, 
Cromwell turned to the subjugation of his mutinous 
army. Acting with that decision which so often dis- 
comfitted his enemies, he proceeded to Ware, in 
Hertfordshire, where the first of the three appointed 
meetings, was to take place. Only seven regiments, 
and those which had seemed least mutinous, had been 
summoned to it ; but nine were there, drawn up on the 
common. Two, one of horse, and one of foot — the 



1 Rt) OLIVER CROMWELL. 

most tumultuous in the whole army — had come of their 
own accord, to resist the authority of their leaders. 
The latter regiment had expelled all its officers, above 
the rank of lieutenant, except one captain, because they 
w r ere too favorable to the generals. Every soldier 
wore a paper, called " The Agreement of the People," in 
his hat, on which was inscribed, " Liberty to England" 
— " Soldier's Rights." As they thus stood in disorderly 
array, on the open field ; Rainsborough, who fought so 
gallantly at Bristol, Ewer, Scott, and John Lilburn 
fresh from the Tower, were seen galloping from com- 
pany to company, in the highest excitement, brandish- 
ing their swords, and exhorting the soldiers to stand firm 
for their liberty and that of their country. They were 
answered by shouts that ever and anon rocked the 
plain. In the midst of this strange scene, Fairfax and 
Cromwell, surrounded by their officers, slowly advanc- 
ed on the field. They first approached the seven less 
refractory regiments, and read to them a calm remon- 
strance against their unlawful proceedings. They 
pointed out the danger to which they subjected both 
themselves and their country — reminded them of 
the affection their generals had hitherto manifested; 
and promising to redress all their grievances, besought 
ihern to return to their duty. When the officers had 
finished reading the paper, the soldiers sent up a loud 
shout of joy, and promised to return immediately to 
their obedience. Cromwell and Fairfax then rode 
towards the two regiments of open mutineers. One, 
that of Harrison, followed the example of the other 



1647.] QUELLS THE MUTINY. 187 

seven, but Lilburn's was only the more excited and 
frantic. The soldiers interrupted Fairfax in the midst 
of his address, with shouts of " No king — no coalition — 
equal rights !" In a moment Cromwell's passions were 
in a blaze, and advancing, with a long, rapid stride, close 
to the ranks, he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, " Take 
that paper from your hats!" They refusing to obey, 
he dashed into their midst, and seizing the chief muti- 
neer by the collar, dragged him forth in presence of all, 
and at the same time ordered his officers to arrest four- 
teen of the other ringleaders. Many a hand sought the 
hilt of its sword and fierce men grasped their fire-locks. 
But Lilburn, and Rainsborough, and the other officers, 
knew too well the man with whom they had to do, to 
attempt an interference. They had too often seen, on 
the battle-field, the terrible expression which now man- 
tled his features, to doubt its meaning ; and they knew 
it would be safer to meet the roused lion, than him in 
that mood. They could rush all steadily upon a stand of 
]eve\ pikes, but not on the breast of that single man, in 
that moment of wrath and fierce determination. 

Instantly turning to Fairfax, Cromwell requested that 
the officers should be assembled; and a drum-head 
court-martial was ordered on the spot — and there, right 
in front of the rebellious regiment, those ringleaders 
were tried, and three condemned. One, as an example, 
was sentenced to be shot, and lots were cast to deter- 
mine which it should be. The lot fell on a furious 
soldiei named Arnell. A file of men were immediately 
called imt to execute the sentence. At the word 



L88 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

"Fire /" the poor wretch fell, pierced with balls; and hia 
companions/ who, an hour before, had heard his shout 
of defiance ring the loudest, looked on aghast, and 
quailed before their resolute leader. 

This quelled the mutiny for the time, and a vote of 
thanks was tendered Cromwell by the House of Com- 
mons. But this high-handed summary act, which 
completely stunned the army, soon aroused anger in 
the fanatieal friends of the condemned, who were still 
in prison. They were called by some the "chosen of 
the Lord ;" and one preacher from the country came to 
London on purpose to declare that God had forsaken 
the generals, for daring to imprison his saints. 

The soldiers were afraid to meet again the torrent of 
their leader's wrath; but many officers expostulated with 
him, declaring that they would not have a king, but 
were bent on a republic, and if necessary, would divide 
the army for that purpose. He answered them evasive- 
ly, well aware that though he had quelled the anarchy 
that threatened to disrupt the army, and re-established 
his supremacy there ; careful management was neces- 
sary to keep what he had gained. 

At length, a great meeting was called at head-quarters. 
It met December 22d, and ten hours were spent in 
prayer and mutual confessions. The mutinous officers 
confessed their wrong — the soldiers expressed repent- 
ance for their deeds ; and Cromwell, who had adopted a 
tone of great conciliation, since the suppression of the 
mutiny, was restored to full confidence. The prisoners 
were set at liberty — the degraded officers restored to 



1647.] KING TREATS WITH THE SCOTS 189 

their rank ; — and with solemn vows to God to act in fu- 
ture for the good of their country, that strangely enthu- 
siastic and patriotic multitude dispersed. 

At the same time, messengers arrived from the king, 
congratulating the generals on their victory, and re- 
minding them of their promise to advance his interest. 
The former, however, did not stop long to negotiate — ■ 
the scorn and indignation that gathered on the brows of 
Cromwell and Ireton, showed them that their master 
had nothing to expect in that quarter. 

Eight days previous to this event, the House of Com- 
mons had voted that four propositions should be laid 
before the king, on the acceptance of which he might 
treat personally with parliament. First, he was to give 
the control of all the military and naval force to parlia- 
ment for twenty years, and longer, if circumstances 
required. Second, to revoke all the proclamations he 
had made against it, in which its acts were declared 
illegal. Third ; annul the peerages he had created since 
the commencement of the war ; and lastly, allow parlia- 
ment to control its own sittings. 

The Scotch commissioners no sooner heard of this 
movement, than they sent messengers to Charles, urging 
him not to accept the terms ; as they would offer far 
better. They and the commissioners from parliament, 
reached the Isle of Wight nearly at the same time ; and 
began to push their respective claims. In two days, 
Charles had concluded a treaty with the Scotch ; the 
chief stipulations in which were, that he should estab- 
lish the Presbyterian Church in England for three 



190 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

years, and then leave the final settlement of its gov 
eminent to parliament and the Assembly of Divines. 
In consideration of these concessions, a Scotch army 
was to be raised, in conjunction with one in Ireland, 
and place him on the throne. At the first opportunity, 
he was to escape from the island, and hasten to Scotland 
to wait the decisive moment. 

When the baffled commissioners of parliament return- 
ed, and made their report, the deepest indignation pre- 
vailed. A member, Thomas Wroth arose and said : 
" Mr. Speaker, Bedlam was appointed for madmen, and 
Tophet for kings ; but our kings have, of late carried 
themselves as if they were fit for no place but Bedlam : I 
propose we lay the king by, and settle the kingdom with- 
out him. I care not what form of government you set 
up ; so it be not by kings or devils." This bold speech 
was followed by one equally so from Ireton. He declar- 
ed, that allegiance of the people could be procured only 
on the promise of protection ; and as the king had denied 
the latter, they must refuse the former. 

The revolution had progressed : men had passed 
from the discussion of great constitutional questions to 
simple assertions of their own rights as men. Kingship 
could now be treated contemptuously without exciting 
horror. The Presbyterians were alarmed; and en- 
deavored to arrest these dangerous feelings. The blow 
now planned struck at the very root of English govern- 
ment : and if it succeeded, everything would be adrift, 
and the strongest win. They, therefore, strenuously 
opposed the motion neither to send or receive any more 



1648.] THE KING LA II. ASIDE. 191 

messages from the king, and settle the government with- 
out him. 

The debate grew warm, when Cromwell arose and 
said it was "high time to answer the public expectation — ■ 
that they were able and resolved to govern and defend 
the kingdom, by their own power, and teach the people 
they had nothing to hope from a man whose heart God 
had hardened in obstinacy. Do not," he continued, 
" let the army think themselves betrayed to the rage and 
malice of an irreconcilable enemy, whom they have 
subdued for your sake; and from whom they would 
receive, as a reward, revenge and punishment. Do not 
drive them to despair ; lest they seek safety by other 
means than adhering to you, who will not stick to 
yourselves. How destructive such a resolution in 
them will be to you all, "(laying his hand on his sword- 
hilt) " I tremble to think ; and leave you to judge." 
The language and the movement were both significant ; 
and no farther debate was attempted. The motion to 
proceed to the settlement of the kingdom without the 
king, was carried by a large majority, and sent to the 
upper House. Here, too, after a short struggle, it pass- 
ed ; and parliament stood before the world as the sove- 
reign power of England. 

This summary disposition of the throne and royal pre- 
rogative, filled the adherents of the king with consterna- 
tion and rage ; and countless plots were laid to excite a 
general insurrection. Even in the Isle of Wight, the 
drum was beat, and the citizens called to arms, to defena 
their sovereign All over the country — in Scotland, 



J ()2 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Ireland and Wales, there were symptoms of a genera) 
rising in his favor. The mask was off. and all saw 
that the complete overthrow of royalty was resolved 
upon. In the midst of the gathering storm, Cromwel 
stood calm and self-collected, though not without dee{ 
anxiety. The power he had so long wielded secretly 
must now be exerted openly. Still cautious, however, 
and waiting for the hour to strike, he watched, with a 
vigilance nothing could elude, the disturbed elements 
about him. Measures were set on foot to thwart the 
enemies of parliament, and acts passed, forbidding all 
who had fought for the king tc reside within twenty 
miles of London. Suspected justices of the peace were 
removed, and the presses of the "malignants" stopped. 
The army once more marched through London ; and 
men everywhere saw that the tremendous power which 
had gathered under the hand of Cromwell, was to be 
exerted to the uttermost. 

Such scenes ushered in the memorable year of 1648. 
While Oliver thus stood and felt the heaving of the 
earthquake beneath him, he resolved to call together the 
religious leaders of the Presbyterians and Independents, 
to see if he could effect a reconciliation. They met at 
his house, but divided by religious dogmas, could come 
to no agreement. He then summoned to him the politi- 
cal leaders, such as Vane, Haselrig, Hutchinson, Lud- 
iow, and others more moderate. He told them, that as 
government now rested on their shoulders, it became 
tnem to decide what form should be adopted. Some de- 
clared for a republic — some for a mixed monarchy ; and 



] 648. J A MOB IN LONDON. 193 

at length Ludlow asked Cromwell what his views were. 
The latter evaded a direct answer ; but being hard press- 
ed seized a cushion, and flinging it at Ludlow's head, hur- 
ried out of the room. As he left, Ludlow hurled it hack ; 
which, says the latter, "made him hasten down stairs 
faster than he desired. ' Such practical jesting in the 
midst of deliberations on no less a question than the sal- 
vation of a kingdom, seems strangely at war with Crom- 
well's character. But they err greviously, who suppose 
it was a mere ebulition of humor — the effervescence of 
a careless indifferent state of mind. It was either the im- 
pulsive movement of a spirit struggling to throw off the 
burden that weighed it down ; or, what is more probable, 
a summary way of breaking up a council who were urg- 
ing him too far, and whose continued deliberations could 
be of no avail. He had fathomed their hearts and ascer- 
tained their wishes, and now he could mature his own 
plans with more precision. 

In the meantime, as spring advanced, incipient in- 
surrections were announced in the North, and even in 
counties bordering on London. At length, in the begin- 
ning of April, a mob of the city came in collision with 
the militia, and a sharp conflict ensued. The former, 
reinforced by the watermen and others, drove the mili- 
tary before them — took two of the gates of the city, and 
seizing a magazine of arms, passed through the streets, 
shouting "God and King Charles!" A council of war 
was called, and it was proposed that the two regiments 
quartered in Londoi should attack the mob. The ma- 
jority voted against the measure, on the ground that the 
9 



194 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

foice was insufficient. But Cromwell, with his usual 
promptness and daring, declared that the troops should 
immediately be ordered out ; and — Fairfax coinciding 
with him — in a few minutes the tramp of the advancing 
squadrons was heard. In two hours the emeute waa 
over, and peace restored. But the flames were only 
smothered, not extinguished. 

While these things were passing at home, Scotland, 
in order to carry out its plan for the reinstatement of 
Charles on the throne, was endeavoring to raise an army 
of forty thousand men. Ireland, too, began to move ; and 
the royalists in England taking courage, a formidable 
resistance seemed about to be organized. 

In the midst of these alarming rumors without, the 
common-council of London hearing that the army had 
formed a plan, the moment the kingdom was invaded, 
to march into the city and make extraordinary levies of 
men and money ; petitioned parliament that it should be 
withdrawn still farther from the walls — which was 
granted. 

These disorders and dangers frightened the more 
timid and the more conservative ; and leaving the Inde- 
pendents, they went over to the Presbyterians, so that 
the latter had the balance of power again in their hands. 
A motion was made and carried, that the form of gov 
ernment should not be altered, and that the proposals 
made to the king might be the basis on which to settle 
the affairs of the nation. Cromwell, who had in vain 

deavored to arrest this movement, turned once more 
to his army ; and calling a council of war, proposed to 



1648.] HIS SICKNE^J, 195 

march on the parliament and o verier jw It at the pike's 
Doint. Failing to animate his officers with his bold 
spirit, he resolved to leave the scene of political in- 
trigue, and with his army, win in the field, by his vic- 
tories, that strength he was losing in the State. 

But before we enter upon the stirring history of the 
second civil war, we would mention two or three events 
which occurred in the midst of the political excitement 
that ushered in the campaign of 1648. 

In January, we find Cromwell negociated a marriage 
contract for his son Richard, with the daughter of 
Richard, Mayor of Hursley, Hants, near Winchester: 
which, after much delay, was finally brought to a satis- 
factory termination. In March, the House of Com- 
mons took up the grant which had been made to him 
of the lands of the Marquis of Winchester and Wor- 
cester. It seems the act had never been carried out — 
the Winchester estate not being available : — and now his 
friends renewed the subject, and obtained a settlement 
of £1,680 per annum on him and his heirs, from the 
estate of the Earl of Worcester. 

While this was under discussion, Cromwell lay dan- 
gerously sick, in London. This may account for the 
partial success gained by his enemies during the 
spring. While the master-spirit dreaded by all was 
crushed under disease, they could rally with renewed 
courage and confidence ; and met no longer at ftvery 
turn by that vigilant eye and resolute arm, work with 
more success. Besides, his friends might assume an 
attitude less bold, as he, without whom thev r-ould 



190 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

do nothing, was struggling for life. The manner in 
which he bore this sickness, and the spirit he brought 
out of it, may be gathered from his letter to Fair- 
fax, on his recovery. He says — " It hath pleased God 
to raise me out of a dangerous sickness ; and I do 
most willingly acknowledge, that the Lord hath, in 
this visitation, exercised the bowels of a father to- 
wards me. I received in myself the sentence of death, 
that I might learn to trust in Him that raiseth the 
dead, and have no confidence in the flesh. It is a 
blessed thing to die daily ; for what is there in this 
world to be accounted of? The best men according 
to the flesh, and things, are lighter than vanity. I 
found this only good — to love the Lord, and his poor, 
despised people; to do for them, and to be ready to 
suffer with them ; and he that is found worthy of this, 
hath obtained a great favor from the Lord ; and he 
that is established in this, shall (being confirmed to 
Christ, and the rest of the Body) participate in the 
glory of a resurrection which will answer all."* 

A fortnight after the date of this letter, he wrote 
to the Committee of the two Houses, on the affairs 
of Ireland — offering one thousand pounds, per annum, 
for five years, out of the one thousand six hundred 
and eighty, granted him, " to be employed for the 
service of Ireland." He likewise discharged the State 
from the debt due him, for his services under the 
Earl of Manchester, (amounting to £ 1,500,) to- 
gether w'.h the salary, as Governor of Ely, for two 
* Vide Carlyle, Letter xxxiv 



1648.] ARMY PRAYER MEETING. 197 

years, also amounting to a considerable sum. This 
offer was accepted. Thus far Cromwell seems to be 
seeking neither wealth nor power. Giving away the 
former as fast as bestowed — and pushed on towards the 
latter, by circumstances which he struggles manfully to 
resist; he exhibits a patriotism that malice has in vain 
endeavored to transform into ambition ; and shows that 
he possessed a stout, straight-forward, honest, English 
heart. 

Another event, characteristic of these times and 
men, occurred in the beginning of this year. In the 
confusion to which everything got reduced, the army 
knew not which way to turn. Abused by parliament 
— called upon alternately to overturn and obey it, it 
ooked about for some light to guide its way. In 
this dilemma, the soldiers cast their eyes upward 
to the Lord, in whose service they fought. No 
one can reflect on the conclusion they came to, and 
the manner it was reached, without being deeply 
struck with the religious spirit that animated those 
brave hearts. Call it fanaticism, folly, impious con- 
fidence, anything — it is certainly not hypocrisy. A 
solemn prayer-meeting was called by the officers, to 
pray over the subject. It met at Windsor Castle, 
and the day was passed in fasting and supplication; 
but, without bringing any answer from Heaven. It 
met again the next day, and ended with the same 
success. The third morning these warriors assem- 
bled for the last time, to ask the Lord for his guid- 
ance. At. length, according to Adjutant General 



1 08 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Allen, ligh. broke in upon their darkness, and the 
cause of their troubles was revealed : " Which/' says 
the Adjutant General, " we found to be those cursed 
carnal conferences, our own conceited wisdom, fears, 
and want of faith, had prompted us the year before 
to entertain with the king and his party." These 
honest-hearted men had hit the truth without doubt. 
It was those "cursed carnal conferences" with the 
king, and nothing else, that had w T ell-nigh ruined the 
cause of English liberty. 

But one would think that they might have stum- 
bled on this plain fact, without fasting and praying 
three days over it. Cromwell, we suspect, did un- 
derstand it, as well as the hint conveyed to him in the 
decision. 

About this time, also, a portion of the fleet revoltea, 
and sailed for Holland, 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE SECOND CIVIL WAR. 1648. 

Cromwell Marches to Subdue the Insurrection in Wales — Invests Pem 
broke Castle — Fairfax Drives the Insurgents into Colchester — Lam. 
bert Sent North to Retard the Scotch — Cromwell Reduces Pembroke 
and Starts Northward — His Unparalleled March — Joins Lambert- 
Battle of Preston — Enters Edinburgh — Proceedings in Parliament — 
Attempt to Make a New Treaty with the King, and Destroy Crom- 
well and the Independents — Stormy Debate in Parliament — Army 
Marches on London — Pride's Purge — Return of Cromwell — Course 
of the Independents Defended. 

The insurrectionary movements continued to grow 
more alarming every day. In Wales, one Colonel Poyer, 
governor of Pembroke Castle, had declared for the 
king, and bade defiance to parliament. Cromwell, 
heedless of the plots his enemies might lay against him 
in his absence, and intent only on saving his country, 
took five regiments, and hastened thither. He de- 
parted on the 3d of May, and passing through Chep- 
stow, which the insurgents had taken, summoned the 
castle to surrender. A refusal being sent, he did not 
choose to linger before it ; but leaving Colonel Ewer, 
with a small force, to subdue it, who, in four weeks, 
succeeded ; he hastened forward. 

In the meantime, Colonel Horton, with a parliament- 
ary force under him, attacked, near Cardiff, a large 



200 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

reinforcement hastening to the insurgents of Pembroke 
and routed it utterly. 

Pushing rapidly forward, crushing all opposition as 
he advanced, he, in ten days more, came in sight of 
Pembroke. He had no artillery; but the soldiers, be- 
lieving nothing impossible under their invincible leader, 
demanded to be led to the assault ; and mounting the 
ramparts with shouts and songs, seemed about to carry 
them by one bold effort. But, suddenly assailed in 
turn, with incredible fury, they were hurled back in the 
darkness, leaving the ditch strewed with dead bodies. 
Cromwell then sat down before the castle ; and while 
bending all his energies to subdue the place, wrote to 
Major Saunders, at Brecknock, to hasten with his forces 
into Monmouth, and arrest Sir Trevor Williams, a 
revolted officer of parliament, commanding there, also 
Mr. Morgan, high sheriff' of the shire, another recreant 
official, who had gone over to the king. 

While he was thus beleaguering Pembroke, unable to 
make a breach, for the want of cannon, which had 
been stranded on their passage by water ; Fairfax, 
though ill with the gout, took the field against the 
insurgents in Kent, Essex, and London. Driving the 
motley army before him into Maidstone, he came up 
with, and attacked it so furiously, that, though met 
and opposed gallantly, he utterly dissipated it. The dis- 
jointed bands in other parts of this county and Essex, 
finally assembled in Colchester. Thither Fairfax 
marched; and closely investing the place, resolved to 
starve out the garrison. Other detachments were cut 



1648.] PEMBROKE FAILS. 201 

up ; and among them, one under young Villiers. son oi 
the Duke of Buckingham. Lambert had been sent 
North, against Sir Marmaduke Langdale, who was 
gathering the cavaliers together, to be ready for the 
approach of the Scots. 

While the fires were thus kindling all over England, 
Cromwell still lay before Pembroke — writing, in the 
meantime, to Fairfax, congratulating him on his vic- 
tories, and wishing he was by his side. Thus stood 
matters in the army ; and parliament, relieved from the 
sudden danger that threatened it, turned its force once 
more against the Independents, whose chief leaders 
were now absent at the head of their regiments. It 
rescinded the vote declaring that all negotiations with 
the king should be broken off; and new propositions, 
milder than the first, were talked of. Their easy con- 
fidence, however, was of short duration : the advance 
of the Scottish army, under Hamilton, startled them in 
the midst of their political squabbles ; and they wrote 
to Cromwell, telling him to forget their former ani- 
mosity, and relying on their support, push the war with 
vigor. The Derby House Committee,* controlled by the 
Independents, also wrote him to hurry off what troops 
he could spare, to the succor of Lambert, and follow 
himself with all speed, soon as Pembroke was reduced. 
But the commands of the one, and the fawning syco- 
phancy of the other, fell alike unheeded. In the midst 
of danger, he was at home ; and the greater the dif- 

* Old Committee of both Kingdoms revamped, by excluding soma 
Presbyterians, and electing Independents in their places. 
9* 



202 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Acuities that surrounded him, the more resplendent 
shone his genius. Three weeks before these messages 
reached him, he was on the march for Scotland. In- 
formed by his trusty servants of all that passed, he had 
sent word to Lambert to fall back before the enemy, 
till he should arrive to his aid ; and coiling himself 
closer and closer round Pembroke Castle, and thunder- 
ing upon it with his cannon, which had finally ar- 
rived — hurling back every sally, and pressing home 
every advantage — he, at length, July 11th, (three days 
after the Scotch crossed the borders,) marched through 
the gates, and received the unconditional surrender of 
the garrison. 

For seven weeks his men had been kept on constant 
duty ; and now, worn out and exhausted, needed repose. 
But the storm that had long been gathering on the 
northern horizon, and was now rolling heavily over the 
borders, would admit of no delay ; and, two days after 
Pembroke surrendered, he broke up his camp, and 
writing to the Derby House Committee, " Send me some 
swes for my poor tired soldiers — -for they have a long 
march to make," started with his little army of five 
thousand men to meet the Scotch invasion. Moving 
westward, then northward, obtaining 3,000 shoes for 
his soldiers at Leicester, he swept forward with a speed 
till then unknown in the annals of war. Awing the 
insubordinate ; encouraging the friendly ; treading out 
the smoking insurrection as he passed ; now praying 
and pleaching with his soldiers, and now hurrying on 
the exhausted columns; he moved over the country 



1648.] HIS ASTONISHING MARCH. 203 

like an avenging spirit whose footsteps could brook no 
delay. Though weary and worn, no sooner had the 
soldiers pitched their tents at night than they resounded 
with the voice of prayer, and rung with hymns of 
praise to God. With the first blush of day, the roll 
of the drum called them from their heavy slumbers, 
and they again took up their line of march. No one 
but the leader at their head could have roused them to 
.such efforts. But, cheered by his presence who had 
never led them but to victory, and excited to enthu- 
siasm by his stirring appeals, they bore all with cheer- 
fulness, and moved forward with alacrity. He had 
sent off his cavalry in advance, to sustain Lambert till 
he arrived, which reached him on the 27th of July, 
just thirteen days after its departure. On that very 
day, the portion of the fleet which had revolted from 
parliament in May last, and, setting their commander 
ashore, fled to Holland; arrived in England with the 
young Prince of Wales on board. 

A fearful crisis was now fast approaching. The 
king, though a prisoner, was surrounded with friend's 
plotting his escape — Colchester still held out against 
Fairfax — the Prince of Wales was on the coast issuing 
his proclamations — all England was on fire, waiting to 
see whether Cromwell, would be crushed before the 
united forces of the English and Scotch, now more 
than twenty thousand strong. Every eye was turned 
towards this single leader, who, when his wearied troops 
were joined to those under Lambert, would scarcely 
exceed eight thousand men — a number little more than 



204 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

one-third of the force against him. Never were the 
heavens more black and tempestuous over his head than 
at this moment. At length, after twenty-days' march, 
he effected a junction with Lambert ; and high and wild 
were the shouts that went up, as the head of his tired 
columns approached the camp. 

B4TTLE OF PRESTON FJRST DAy's FIGHT. 

The Scotch and English army were advancing into 
Lincolnshire, when Oliver, with his army of eight, or as 
some say, nine thousand men, set out to meet it. The 
English cavaliers, commanded by Sir Marmaduke 
Langdale, whom Cromwell routed so terribly at Nase- 
by, were fifteen or twenty miles in advance of the 
Scotch. This wide and impolitic separation, was 
owing to the immovable repugnance of the sturdy 
Scotch Presbyterians to unite in close fellowship with 
the English royalists, unless they would subscribe to the 
Scotch Covenant. 

Thus, a day's march apart, the two armies moved 
forward. At length, it was told Langdale, that Crom- 
well was within a short distance of him, and rapidly 
advancing. He instantly sent word to Hamilton, and 
asked for reinforcements. The duke, however, refused, 
declaring it was impossible that Cromwell had arrived 
so soon from Wales, or at least, with any considerable 
force. Nor was this opinion presumptive : — who could 
believe that he had traversed the breadth and length of 
England in so short a time ? His heavy blows had 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE BATTLE. 205 

scarcely ceased thundering on the gates of Pembroke 
Castle, and now, they said, he was driving in their advanc- 
ed posts. "Impossible!" exclaimed the duke, yet it was 
nevertheless true. 

Cromwell being informed of the loose manner in 
which the army was marching, and also of the expected 
approach of the Irish auxiliaries, 2500 strong, resolved, 
without delay, to fall upon it ; and cutting it in two, roll 
the divided portions north and south, as the rock rolls 
the stream. Sending off, therefore, his train, in order 
to be unencumbered, and to move with more facility 
he, on the 13th of August, started for Lancashire. The 
16th, he approached near to Stonyhaust, and encamped 
within nine miles of Preston, and three miles of the 
Scottish quarters. Here a council of war was called, 
and it was resolved to cross the Ribble river next day, 
and attack the enemy at Preston. It might have 
gone hard with Oliver, but for the stubbornness of 
Hamilton, who persisting in believing that his dreaded 
adversary was not near, drew ofF a large portion of his 
troops, on the very day of battle. Part of his cavalry, 
under Middleton, had also gone to Wigan, eight miles 
distant, so that the two opposing forces were about equal 

The next morning — it was a dark and drizzly morn- 
ing — the republicans began to advance. Two detach- 
ments, one of two hundred horse, and another of four 
hundred foot, were sent forward to commence the 
attack. The former, coming upon a large body under 
Langdale, halted until the latter could arrive. Crom- 
well, perceiving this hesitation, spurred forward, and 



20V) OLIVER C 5. ( . M W E L L . 

ordered them to advance But the odds were too great, 
and they asked for a little delay, till the arrival of the 
other detachment. "March I" thundered forth Crom- 
well, and the gallant troop, with a shout of defiance, 
precipitated itself forward. Bearing resolutely up 
against the overwhelming numbers, they maintained 
their ground till the foot came up, when charging home 
on the ranks, they sent them, broken and disordered, back 
to the main army, a quarter of a mile in the rear. 

This was the commencement of the battle ; and amid 
the roar of cannon, the shouts and enthusiastic hymns 
of his men, Cromwell moved steadily forward with his 
entire force. The English were drawn up on an en- 
closed moor, a short distance from Preston. The 
ground was well chosen to prevent the charge of 
Oliver's Ironsides — a body of cavalry which had be- 
come the terror of the royalists — for, intersected by 
hedges and fences, and made soft and miry, by the 
heavy rains of the past week, it furnished constant bar- 
riers to the horses, which sunk fetlock deep at every 
step, even when on a walk. A lane, enclosed with a 
high hedge, and trodden into mire, led straight up to the 
English centre. In this, Cromwell placed two regi- 
ments of horse — his own and Harrison's — while the in- 
fantry stretched out on either side like two arms. Two 
regiments of horse flanked the right wing — one regi- 
ment was stationed as a reserve in the lane, to act in 
case of need, and the rest of the cavalry guarded the 
left. Thus arrayed, Cromwell continued to advance 
under the heavy and constan . fire of the enemy. The 



J 648. , THE BATTLE. 207 

Englisn cannon swept the lane, while from every hedge 
close and deadly volleys of musketry were poured. But 
nothing could stay his progress — the solid squadrons of 
horse advanced slowly but firmly to the charge — the 
levelled pikes cleared every hedge, and pushing home 
every advantage, he never allowed the battle to recede 
for a moment. Still, every inch of ground was contested 
with noble resolution, and not a regiment fell back until 
it had left the ground covered with its dead. It was 
one of those close-handed fights, where there is no ces- 
sation to the tumult — no pauses in the storm — but the 
clang of sabres — rattle of musketry — shouts of men — 
and ever and anon the blast of trumpets, conspire to 
make a scene of indescribable wildness and terror. Sir 
Marmaduke rode hither and thither, encouraging his 
troops to bear up bravely; and strained every nerve to 
maintain his ground. But nothing could resist that re- 
publican host ; bent on victory, they received the close 
and deadly fire of their foes without shrinking, and press- 
ing fearlessly on the stands of levelled pikes, bore down 
the firm-set ranks with a steady pressure, against which 
every effort seemed powerless. It was not head long 
valor, but constant and resolute courage that decided 
the day. 

After four hours of almost unprecedented fighting, the 
royalists, at length, gave way on all sides, and fled into 
the town. Pressing close on their rear, four regiments 
of cavalry charged shouting along the streets, clearing 
them of the last vestige of opposition. 

Night ended the conflict, and the Puritan host lay 



'238 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

down on the hard fought field, with their arms in 
their hands. Around were scattered the dead and dy- 
ing — over two thousand of them — trampled by the hoofs 
of the cavalry into the mire. All along that lane — by 
the hedges — on the open moor, and sprinkling the streets 
of Preston, corpses, a few hours before stirring with life 
and energy, were piled in ghastly groups, while the 
silent rain fell unheedingly both on the living and the 
dead. 

The loss to the English army was four thousand 
taken prisoners, and from one to two thousand slain. 
That of Cromwell was comparatively slight, though 
doubtless far greater than he represented in his de- 
spatches. 

He followed up this victory with his usual impetu- 
osity : that very night his cavalry pursued the royalists 
towards Lancaster, for ten miles, cutting down the fugi- 
tives at every step, and taking five hundred prisoners. 

On that same gloomy night, too, Hamilton called a 
council of officers together, who met on horseback, to 
discuss what should be done. Some were for making o 
stand, until Middleton, who had been sent for, at Wigan, 
could return with his cavalry ; and then try their for- 
tune in another battle. But most being for a retreat, 
the dispirited and bleeding army — hungry, drenched 
and weary, without a drum or bugle note to cheer the 
way, took up its line of march for Wigan. The am- 
munition was left behind, in charge of a guard, who 
was to blow it up, but he fled, leaving it in the hand? 
of the victors. 



1648.] second day's fight 209 



SECOND DAY S FIGHT. 

All that night, the Scotch, eleven or twelve th jusand 
strong, staggered on through the mud ; and were miles 
in advance before Cromwell was aware of their depart- 
ure. Rousing up his weary soldiers, whose unparal- 
leled efforts for the last three months, and especially the 
last few days, had not dispirited them, he ordered the 
pursuit. Middleton had returned at the summons sent 
him ; but coming by a different route from that which 
the army took, missed it. Arriving at Ribble Bridge, 
he found the duke had departed, and in all haste fol- 
lowed after. But not scatheless did he go. Thorn- 
haugh pursued him so hotly, that he was compelled 
again and again to turn at bay. Carried away by 
his boiling courage, this gallant leader, leading the 
advance-guard, dashed almost alone into the very 
midst of the enemy, and fell, pierced by two lances. 
He was a noble officer ; and has an epitaph that any 
man might covet. Says Cromwell of him, in his letter 
to the Speaker of the House of Commons : " he was a 
man as faithful and gallant in your service as any ; 
and one who often, heretofore, lost blood in your quarrel ; 
and now his last. He hath left sons behind him to 
inherit a father s honor and, a sad widow; — both now the 
interest of the Commonwealth" A noble tribute to a 
gallant officer from a great commander. No higher 
eulogy ever made a patriot immortal. 

Still forcing the enemy before him, and emptying 



•J 10 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

many a saddle as he pressed the retiring squadrons, he 
continued the pursuit to within three miles of Wigan, 
where Hamilton made a stand. But no sooner did the 
heads of the columns of infantry appear in rear, than 
they again retreated. It was a terrible day: the can- 
non rolled up to the axles in clay ; and the horses sunk 
almost to their knees, at every step. Many a time the 
cavalry charged on a walk ; and the flight and pursuit 
were often kept up on a walk, while the rain fell in a 
constant shower. It was a strange scene, those two 
hosts toiling so slowly and heavily on, in the deep mire ; 
the one in flight, the other in pursuit. So dreadful 
were the roads that they made but twelve miles that 
day. " It was twelve miles/' says Cromwell, w T ho was 
used to rough weather and rough usage, " of such 
ground as I never rode in all my life." A hundred 
prisoners, besides the slain, were the meagre fruits of 
this day's toil. 

THIRD DAY'S FIGHT. 

That night, Cromwell encamped in the open field, 
close upon the enemy. The soldiers were drenched to 
their skins ; but, too weary to think of their exposure, 
dropped in their ranks and slept; while the August 
moon, which at length broke through and dissipated the 
clouds, shone sweetly down upon them. 

Some skirmishing passed between the outposts ; and 
the republicans made a hundred prisoners — among 
whom were a general and two or three colonels. Utter 



1648.] TERROR OF THE ROYALISTS. 211 

terror had seized the royalists ; and at the mere name 
of Cromwell, they would break and fly. Sir James 
Turner, one of the officers in the Scotch army, thus 
speaks of his own experience, this same night, in the 
village of Wigan. He says : " I marched with the last 
brigade of foot through the town of Wigan : I was 
alarmed that our horse behind me were beaten, and 
running several ways, and that the enemy was in my 
rear. I faced about with that brigade, and in the mar- 
ket-place, serried the pikes together shoulder to shoulder, 
to entertain any that might charge ; and sent orders to 
the rest of the brigade before to continue their march, 
and follow Lieutenant-General Baillie, who was before 
them. It was then night ; but the moon shone bright, 
A regiment of horse of our own appeared foremost, 
riding very disorderly : I got them to stop, till I com- 
manded my pikes to open and give way for them to ride, 
or run away, since they would not stay. But now my 
pike- men being demented, (as I think we all were,) 
would not hear me ; and two of them ran full tilt at me. 
One of their pikes, which was intended for my belly, 1 
gripped with my left hand; the other ran nearly two 
inches into the inner side of my right thigh ; all of them 
crying of me and those horse, ' they are Cromwell's men !' 
This made me forget all rules of modesty, prudence and 
discretion. I rode to the horse, and ordered them to 
charge through the foot. They, fearing the hazard of 
the pikes stood ; I then made a cry come from behind 
then) that the enemy was upon them. Thus pressed 
by greater fears behind, they were roused to charge my 



212 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

foot so fiercely that thepikemen threw down their pikes 
and got into houses. All the horse galloped away, and 
as I was told afterwards, rode not through, but over. 
our whole foot treading them down. In the confusion, 
Col. Lockhart was trod down from his horse, with great 
danger of his life."* 

The next morning, the routed and broken army re- 
commenced its disastrous flight, streaming on towards 
Warrington, pursued by Cromwell and his jaded troops. 
When within about three miles of the place, the Scots 
wheeled, and made a desperate stand. A large body of 
pikemen presented a solid phalanx, in the open ground ; 
while the hedges were lined with muskets, which opened 
a sharp and destructive fire on the pursuers. The spot 
they had chosen, had all the advantage of a pass ; and 
they held it with stubborn resolution. Again and again 
did the victorious republicans, move shoulder to 
shoulder, on the levelled pikes, and charge, shouting 
on the thick-set hedges. But the Scots stood firm, 
commanded by a mere boy, with a blue bonnet, whose 
chivalric daring, and headlong valor, was more potent 
with them than the authority of the oldest officers. 
Hour after hour they maintained their position ; — but 
at length, reinforcements coming up to the republicans, 
the latter made a last charge, and cleared the pass. On 

* Vide Turner's Memoirs of his own Life and Time. Carlyle, in 
citing this, has made a mistake, in placing this and the fight near 
Warrington, on the same night. The former was on the evening of 
the ISth ; the hot encounter which followed, the day after. The 
confusion, doubtless, arose from the indistinct relation of Sir James 
Turner. 



1648.] THE VICTORY. 213 

that well-contested ground, the Scotch left a thousand 
slain, and among them the young " gallant in the blue 
bonnet."* Falling back on Warrington, they barricaded 
the place, and made another stand. When Cromwell 
came up, and saw the strength of the position, he ex- 
pected a bloody resistance ; but, to his surprise, Lieu- 
tenant-General Baillie, who commanded the troops — 
nearly four thousand in number — sent in an offer to ca- 
pitulate, which was accepted, and the three days' battle 
was over. Of all that gallant array, that came so 
proudly over the borders, nothing now remained but 
shattered and disordered fragments. With his eight 
thousand republicans, Oliver had utterly dissipated it — 
having slain several thousands, and taken nearly nine 
thousand prisoners. 

Hamilton, himself, with about three thousand horse, 
fled towards Nantwich, harrassed at every step by the 
inhabitants. Cromwell sent Lambert after him, and 
himself attempted a pursuit of the enemy ; but, finding 
his troops had been overtasked, he recalled them. Con- 
stantly in the saddle, riding hither and thither — now 
exhorting his army in that enthusiastic language he 
knew so well how to employ; and now toiling over 
the hard-fought field, his mind, for the last few weeks, 
and, especially, last few days, had been wrought up to the 
highest pitch of excitement, and his body to its great- 
est power of endurance. Yet, when the victory was 
gained, he did not flag ; but grieved that he could noi 
follow up the victory more vigorously. The result of 

* Vide Heath's Chronicle, cited by Carlyle. 



214 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

the attempt to do it shows what unparalelled exertions 
had been demanded, and cheerfully rendered, by his de- 
voted Ironsides. When ordered to march, the bugles 
sounded; but those jaded horses no longer sprung to the 
touch of the spur. With their heads down, and stiff 
in all their joints, they moved at a snail's pace along. 
The worn riders could not prick them into a gait faster 
than an easy walk; and Cromwell, seeing how com- 
pletely knocked up his favorite cavalry were, resolved 
to give them rest. In his letter to Speaker Lenthall, he 
says, in his blunt manner, " If I had a thousand horse 
that could trot thirty miles, I should not doubt but to 
give a very good account of them ; but, truly, we are so 
harassed and haggled out, in this business, that we 
are not able to do more than walk an easy pace aft*** 
them!' 

The prisoners encumbered the army, and he begged 
parliament to make some disposition of them. He said 
they would not go home if they might without a guard, 
they were so fearful of the country they had ravaged in 
their march. " Ten men!' he writes, " will keep a thousand 
from running away." 

To Major Berry and Edward Sexton who brought 
Cromwell's despatches to parliament, the respective 
sums of two hundred and one hundred pounds were 
voted as a reward for being the bearers of such good 
news. A day of general thanksgiving was ordered, and 
gladness filled the hearts of the republicans. Colchester 
before which Fairfax had lain all this time, now surren- 
dered — the Prince of Wales with the fleet put swiftly 



1048.] RAGE OF THE ROYALISTS. 215 

to sea, and steered again for Holland ; while, with his 
troops in a state of open mutiny, and Lambert close at 
hand, the Duke of Hamilton surrendered at Uttoxeter, 
"n Staffordshire, on the 25th, and afterwards mounted 
ihe scaffold. When the exciting news reached Scot- 
land, " the kirk and Argyle party"* flew to arms to 
complete the demolition of Hamilton's scattered forces. 
This, says Carlyle, was called the " Wkiggamore 
Raid," 1648 ; the first appearance of the whig party 
on the page of history, I think. " David Leslie was at 
their head, and old Leven, ' the field-marshal of 1639,' 
in the castle of Edinburgh, who cannonaded the Royal 
'Hamilton' troops whenever they came in view of 
him." Colonel Monro, who commanded the rear-guard 
of the Scotch army, and fled at the first battle, now 
gathered up the scattered fragments of the two armies, 
Scotch and English, and whatever else he could mus- 
ter, and pillaging the counties through which he passed, 
endeavored to raise another force with which to make 
head against the republicans. 

The manner in which these great disasters, falling so 
rapidly on the heels of each other, were received by 
the royalists may be gathered from the following ex- 
tract from one of their own papers. " Nothing," says 
this paper, " is heard now among the brethren but 
triumph and joy, singing and mirth for their happy 
success (thanks to the devil first, and next to Noll 
CromwtlVs nose) against the Scots, whom they vaun* 
Jhey ha\> t beaten to dust." It then goes on to state 

Tlie chi rch party that repudiated the king — and hence this war. 



210 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

tne ruin that had overtaken the royalists, " and as if 
the devil had got the sway of mundane affairs, the most 
robust and heroic knight, Sir Marmaduke, was un- 
luckily imprisoned v/ith some other wealthy loyalists, 
as they were sitting in a blind ale-house, and carried 
prisoners to Nottingham Castle. But Monro, one of 
the best soldiers in Christendom, is coming on w r ith a 
powerful army to give Noll Cromwell another field- 
fight. * * * if he can shatter this army, also, he will 
prove himself one of the most fortunate villains that 
ever acted mischief. He will find hard play here, for 
these will not be laughed out of their loyalty nor fright- 
ed out of themselves with the blazing of his beacon 
nose."* But no sooner did Lambert rejoin him, after 
the pursuit of Hamilton, than this same Noll Cromwell 
gave orders to march after the valiant Monro, who 
took good care not to let his soldiers see the "blazing 
of that beacon nose," — much less feel the stroke ot his 
trusty blades. Fleeing before him, he crossed the 
border, and left Scotland open to his victorious army. 
In the meantime, Cromwell published a declaration 
requiring all the fugitives of the late Scotch army to 
remain in the places designated for them : should they 
disobey, the friends of parliament w^re to seize, and 
if resistance was offered, to slay them. He, also, while 
lying here on the Scotch border, sent a letter to Fair- 
fax, recommending the widow of one Col. Powell to 
his " tender consideration," and requesting he would use 
his infiuence in parliament to have her and hers provided 

* Cited from Parliament Porter, by the author of British Statesmen 



1648.] ENTERS SCOTLAND. 217 

for ; saying, that " upon his death-bed" the gallant colo- 
nel, (who had, doubtless, fallen at Preston,) commended 
his wife and children to his care. He, also, wrote to 
the " Committee of Estates for the kingdom of Scotland," 
announcing his arrival at Berwick, and demanding the 
rendition of the castle, together with its garrison and 
that of Carlisle: this letter was dated the 16th of 
September. Four days before, the frightened Munro 
appeared before Edinburgh ; but being refused entrance 
and seeing the cannon of the castle pointed against him, 
and an army 6,000 strong ready to give him battle, he 
moved off to Stirling, where he made a treaty, and 
submitted to the constituted authorities. 

Berwick and Carlisle were at length both given up, 
Sept. 24th, "by the order of the Earl of Lanark and 
divers lords of his party." Nine days before, Cromwell 
issued a proclamation forbidding his soldiers to plunder 
or commit any violence on the inhabitants, on pain of 
death. This was caused by the disorderly conduct of 
a regiment of horse, which crossing the Tweed "on 
the Lord's Day," as the army was marching to the 
^anks, seized some horses, and otherwise behaved "dis- 
orderly." For this offence the commanding officer 
>vas suspended, and the plunderers cashiered. Crom 
well wrote to the " Committee of Estates" about it ; 
stating, that this regiment, together with the other 
marauding parties, were not a part of his regular army, 
but " northern horse," who had not been under his dis- 
cipline ^nd government "until just as he came into 

those oaits." These troops he sent back to England, 
10 



218 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

much to the joy of the people, who felt that the enem^ 
was more considerate of their safety and happiness 
than their pretended friends. 

In the meantime, having left garrisons at Berwick 
and Carlisle, he marched on Edinburgh. The gates 
were thrown open to receive him, and entering them 
on the 4th of October, he was escorted in triumph 
through the city. Great and small flocked to see him, 
and he was entertained like a king. The next day he 
addressed a long letter to the "Committee of Estates 
for the Kingdom of Scotland" — going over the causes 
of the war, showing how dangerous the party he had 
just humbled was, and the necessity of extirpating it, 
root and branch ; and concluded with the demand, that 
they should not allow any one engaged in the recent hos- 
tilities against England, " to be employed in any public 
place of trust whatsoever." " This," said he, " is the 
least security I can demand." It was graciously granted 
the next day. On the following day, a great dinner 
was given him at Edinburgh Castle, at which the Earl 
of Leven presided, and the Marquis of Argyle, and other 
lords and dignitaries were guests. As Oliver left the 
castle, the cannon thundered forth a salute : and escort- 
ed by lords, he departed from the city, and again turned 
his face southward. 

But, during these eventful months, so big with the 
fate of England, far different scenes were passing in 
parliament. Urging on Cromwell all despatch and 
vigor, while the enemy threatened them and their gov- 
ernment together, the Presbyterians no sooner saw him 



1648.] PLOTS OF HIS ENEMIES. 219 

victorious than they attempted to stab him in the oack 
Thus, while he was straining every nerve to save Eng- 
land, parliament was plotting to destroy him. Now, 
leading his bare-foot soldiers away from Pembroke Cas- 
tle, and now, hurrying them, weary and exhausted, the 
length and breadth of the land ; and though outnumbered 
nearly three to one, hurling them in such rapid and 
successive charges on the enemy, that they break and 
fly, never more to rally — marching through the drench- 
ing rain — pressing up every advantage with such 
energy, that his tired cavalry can pursue only on a 
walk — overcoming all obstacles, and quenching, with 
one great effort, the flames of civil war, he claims the 
affection and gratitude of government; but receives 
only its jealousy and deadly hostility. 

No sooner had he departed for the North, than the 
Presbyterians, seeing that his success would be their 
ruin, determined to crush him, whatever his fortune 
might be. The eleven members were recalled, and 
Holies returned and took his seat. New negotia- 
tions w T ere opened with the king, and fresh commis- 
sioners sent for that purpose to the Isle of Wight. 
Soon after, (August 8th,) Huntington, formerly a major 
in Cromwell's own regiment, addressed a memorial to 
the House of Lords, in which he accused the latter 
of intrigue, perfidy, ambition, and contempt of parlia- 
ment and the rights of the people. He made oath to 
his specifications ; but when it came to be sent to the 
House of Commons, no member dared take charge of it. 
The name of Cromwell inspired too much terror. It 



220 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

was then sent to the Speaker, who, inspired by the same 
terror, laid it aside, and never told the House he had 
received it. 

Oliver's friends in parliament denounced, in the most 
unsparing terms, this attempt to destroy a member of 
the House, while absent in the service of the country. 
They even sent to Fairfax, before Colchester, and be- 
sought him to interfere. He promised to do so, in case 
of need, but said the time had not yet come. Ludlow 
then applied to Ireton, whom Cromwell had left behind, 
on purpose, no doubt, to watch his enemies during 
his absence, and received a similar reply. There 
was no officer in the army, whose service he needed 
more in his Scottish campaign, than those of his brave 
and gifted son-in-law. But neither was there a man in 
the kingdom, to whom he could entrust so safely the 
common cause while absent. 

These assassin-like attempts to ruin Cromwell were 
made on the very days he was periling his life in the 
battles of Preston. 

Determined, however, not to die without a struggle, 
the republicans, notwithstanding the apathy of Fairfax, 
pressed parliament with petitions to declare itself the 
sovereign power, and grant the reforms so long promis 
ed ; but they received no reply whatsoever. 

In the meantime, September 13th, the fifteen commis 
sioners, five from the upper House, and ten from the 
lower, started for the Isle of Wight, to settle a treaty of 
peace with the king. Three days after, Henry Marten 



1648.] NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE KING. 221 

took horse for Scotland, to inform Cromwell of what 
was passing, and hasten his return. 

On the 18th of September, the commissioners open- 
ed their negotiations. These were to last forty days, 
during which time the king was to make no attempt 
to escape. At the opening of the conference, Charles 
sat under a canopy, with his counsellors silent around 
him. His hair had turned slightly grey, and on his 
fine countenance was an expression of sadness and 
melancholy thought, traced there by his heavy misfor- 
tunes. Every morning the commissioners appeared 
before him, and each separate proposal was fully argued. 
Charles combatted ably for his rights; but yielding 
step by step, at length, agreed to surrender the military 
force to parliament, and allow it to nominate the chief 
officers of State. He even declared the w T ar which had 
been waged against him, lawful ; indeed, consented to 
everything but the punishment of his friends, and the 
abolition of episcopacy. The forty days were consum- 
ed in these protracted negotiations, and twice was the 
time extended. Five times the commissioners voted his 
concessions insufficient, but still eagerly pressed a settle- 
ment, before Cromwell should return and upset every- 
thing. The king, however, stood firm on these points, 
and was evidently heartless in his concessions with 
regard to the others : for, after giving his royU word 
that the persecutions in Ireland should be stopped, he 
secretly wrote to Ormond, commanding him to obey his 
wife's orders, not his, nor "trouble himself about his 
concessions to Ireland as the\ would lead to nothing :" 



222 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

and on the very day he promised to give up the inili 
tary power to parliament for twenty years, he wrote to 
Sir William Hopkins, that this concesssion was made 
solely to "facilitate his approaching escape." Thus 
false throughout, he regarded all promises as compul- 
sory, so long as he was not on the throne. 

While events were thus progressing in the Isle of 
Wight, parliament became a scene of confusion and 
alarm. The army was enraged at the negotiations 
carried on with the king ; Cromwell was returning, and 
everything tending to a catastrophe. Petitions came 
pouring in against all delinquents ; at length, one from 
the regiments of Ireton, Ingoldsby, Fleetwood, Whalley 
and Overton, demanding justice on the king. 

THE CHIEF DELINQUENT. 

On the 20th of November, Col. Ewer presented him- 
self at the door of the House with a grand remonstrance 
from the army, in which the perils of the country were 
specified and charged home on the imbecile parliament. 
It called on them to break off all negotiations with the 
king, and bring him to trial — to declare the sovereignty 
of the people — provide for universal suffrage — in short, 
establish a republic. It fell like a bomb in the midst of 
parliament, and for awhile all was confusion, indigna- 
tion and excitement. After two days' stormy debate, it 
was voted to return no answer at all to the remon- 
strance. But this only inflamed the populai feeling. 
The most alarming and contradictory reports weie cir- 



1648. I ALARM IN PARLIAMENT. 223 

culated. Now Cromwell was close at hand — now 
Fairfax and Ireton were about to lead the army on 
London. On the other side, the royalists threatened 
assassination — Fairfax was warned of his danger — it 
was even rumored that eighty of the most powerful 
members were to be murdered as they left the House. 
The republicans were openly insulted — Rainsborough 
had been poniarded at Doncaster, and all was terror 
and dismay. But amid the various and startling ru- 
mors borne to the ear of Charles, one alarmed him 
more than all others, viz. : that Fairfax had removed 
Hammond from the governship of the Isle of Wight, on 
the ground of his being too lenient to him, and appointed 
Colonel Ewer in his place. It was this news which 
impelled him to make immediate and great concessions, 
which he had no intention of fulfilling. 

Hammond seems to have been an ingenuous, con- 
scientious man, ill-fitted for the turbulent times in 
which he was thrown. He left the army, and selected 
the governorship of the Isle of Wight, in order to obtain 
quiet, and lo, he was now in the very vortex of trouble 
and excitement. On the same day, November 25th, 
in which he received the order from Fairfax, to resign 
his post, Cromwell, from near Pontefract, the castle of 
which he was endeavoring to subdue in his march 
northward, was writing a long, and somewhat remarka- 
ble letter to him. It was rather a sermon than a letter, 
in which he discussed the providences of God, as seen 
in the times — the duty of every conscientious man — the 
lawful power of the army, &c, &c. He endeavored to 



224 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

satisfy the religious scruples of his " dear Robin," as he 
called him, respecting the course he should adopt 
towards the king ; telling him that it was wrong to flinch 
from the responsibility providence had thrown upon 
him, and exhorting him to seek the "spirit of knowledge 
and understanding, the spirit of counsel, and might, and 
wisdom, and fear of the Lord." He closed this singular 
epistle with : 

" This trouble I have been at, because my soul loves 
thee ; and I would not have thee swerve, or lose any 
glorious opportunity the Lord puts into thy hand. The 
Lord be thy counsellor. 

" Dear Robin, I rest thine. 

"Oliver Cromwell." 

It came too late, however, to affect "Robin" in the 
discharge of his duties as governor ; — Fairfax, doubtless 
through the influence of lreton, had taken a more 
effectual method to prevent any weak misgivings, and 
appointed a sterner and more resolute man in his place. 

The same day, also, the commissioners departed with 
the compact made between them and the king. On the 
1st of December, it was laid before parliament; and 
though possessing the same obnoxious points, which had 
caused the former rejection of the king's proposals, the 
Presbyterians moved that it should be the basis of a 
peace ; and the debate commenced. It had lasted, 
however, but a few hours, when a letter was received 
from Fail fax, stating that the army was marching on 
London. In the midst of the sudden terror, caused by 



1648.] ARMY MARCHES ON LONDON, 225 

this announcement, the Independents called out " Ques- 
tion! Question!" hoping, in the panic, to defeat the 
motion before the House. But the Presbyterians had 
rallied for a death struggle, and would not let the 
vote be taken, and the debate was adjourned over to next 
day. 

In the meantime, the army at Windsor was bowed in 
prayer before God. It had heard, the day before, of the 
rejection of its remonstrance, and appointed this as a day 
of prayer, in order to seek direction and guidance from 
heaven. At its conclusion, it was resolved, with one 
accord, to advance on London ; and the next morning, 
December 2d, while parliament, again in session, was 
debating the motion of the previous day, it took up its 
line of march. Before night, the massive columns 
were pouring quietly, yet rapidly, into the city. 

Meanwhile, the debate was carried on tumultuously in 
the House, and protracted till evening, when, (the next 
day being Sunday,) it was adjourned over to Monday. 
That was a solemn Sabbath for London and England. 
In the several quarters of the army, no rioting was per- 
mitted, and nothing but prayer and exhortations broke the 
stillness and solemnity that reigned throughout the capi- 
tal. But all the religious ceremonies had a direct refer- 
ence to the coming struggle. The most miraculous 
events in the Old Testament, the wonderful interposition 
of the Lord in behalf of his people, when pressed by the 
enemy, were received with enthusiasm by the soldiers 
and applied to themselves, 
10* 



Z26 OLIVER CROMWELL. 



THE KING SEIZED. 



The next day, when parliament assembled, anxiety 
sat on every countenance ; for, coiled around it, lay the 
indignant army ; while a whisper passed round the 
House, that the king had been seized, and carried to 
Hurst Castle. This was true — four days before, or 
the next night after the commissioners left the Isle of 
Wight, Charles was seized at Newport, where the con- 
ference had been held, and carried from the island 
across to the beach, and imprisoned in Hurst Castle — • 
a stronghold that stood frowning over the sea. It was 
a dark and stormy night, when the republicans landed 
on the island; but their arrival was soon known, and 
their purpose discovered by the king's friends. The 
Earl of Lindsey, Duke of Richmond, and Colonel 
Edward Cook, urged him to escape instantly. Cook 
mounted in the driving rain, and rode at the peril of 
his life around the coast, to Carisbrook, to see what was 
going on. On his return, at midnight, he found the 
king's quarters surrounded with soldiers — the smoke of 
their gun-matches, carried by the damp air, into his 
very apartments. It was a sad spectacle the three 
friends and the king presented there alone, in the stormy 
midnight, discussing the perils which surrounded them. 
Richmond and Lindsey passionately entreated their 
master to fly; while Cook, drenched with rain, stood 
silent and stern before the fire. At length, Charles 
turned to him, and asked h's advice. He refused, at 



1648.] THE KING IN HURST CASTLE. 22? 

first, to give it; but, being commanded by Charles, 
asked, " Will your majesty allow me to address you a 
question ?" He replied in the affirmative, when Cook 
said, " Suppose I should not only tell your majesty, but 
prove to you, that the army intend forthwith to seize 
you ; if I add that I have the pass- word — horses ready 
at hand — a vessel attending me, hourly expecting me — 
that I am ready and desirous to attend you — that this 
dark night seems made on purpose — that I see no dif- 
ficulty in the thing, what would your majesty do?" 
The king stood a moment silent and thoughtful, and 
then replied, " No ; they promised me, and I promised 
them: I will not break first." Cook reminded him that 
it was the army, not the parliament, who wished to 
seize him. Charles still shook his head ; and Cook and 
Lindsey withdrew, leaving him alone with Richmond. 
The truth is, the king seemed never equal to sudden 
and great emergencies. When called upon to decide 
quick, and in favor of desperate measures, involving 
his personal safety, and demanding great personal effort, 
he invariably failed. Once, only, at the battle of Naseby, 
did he exhibit any of the characteristics of a daring, 
self-reliant man. 

The next morning, he was carried across to the 
castle, and locked up in a room so dimly lighted that 
lamps were needed at mid-day. Ireton, no doubt, was 
at the bottom of this, as well as the movement on Lon- 
don. Resolute, daring, and inflexible as Cromwell, he 
was still more of a republican ; and had no reverence 
whatever for kingship. 



228 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

This news, which soon passed from rumor to open 
announcement, was not calculated to soothe the Pres- 
byterians; and before proceeding to the business for 
which they were assembled, they denounced, in the 
most opprobrious terms, this high-handed measure of 
the army ; and passed a vote declaring that it had been 
executed without their assent or knowledge. The de- 
bate on the motion respecting the king's concessions 
was then resumed, with the determined resolution, on 
the one hand to carry it through, and on the other to 
defeat it, at all hazards. Hour after hour, the hall rung 
to the loud and angry declamations of the members; 
until at length, late in the night, after twelve or four- 
teen hours' discussion, Prynne, the famous Puritan who 
had his ears twice cropped off, been put in the stocks, 
fined and imprisoned, arose, and spoke in behalf of the 
motion.* His sufferings for the cause of liberty ; 

* He began : " Mr. Speaker, first, I would remove the seeming 
prejudices which else may enervate what I am to say. Some mem 
bers, firstly, have aspersed me, that I am a royal favorite, alluding to 
the title of one of my works. All the royal favor I ever yet received 
from his majesty or his party, was the cutting off of my ears, two 
several times one after another, in a most barbarous manner; the set- 
ting me upon three several pillories in a disgraceful manner, for two 
hours at a time : the burning of my licensed books before my face by 
the hangman ; the imposing of ten fines upon me of $5000 a-piece ; 
exclusion from the House, and court, and university of Oxford ; the 
loss of my calling, almost nine years' space ; close eight years' im- 
prisonment, without pens, ink, paper, or books, except my Bible, 
and without access of friends, or any allowance of diet for my sup- 
port. If any member envy me for such royal favors, I only wish him 
the same badges of favor; and then he will no more asperse me for a 
royal favorite, or apostate from the public cause " — Pari. Hisf 



-648.] pride's purge. 229 

the injustice he had received from the hands of the 
king ; and above all his known attachment to the prin- 
ciples of freedom, gave great weight to his address, 
and doubtless, turned the scale in favor of the Presby- 
terians. At five o'clock* in the morning, having sat 
nearly twenty-four hours, the motion was put and 
carried, that the king's concessions afforded a sufficient 
basis for a peace. One hundred and twenty-nine were 
in favor of it, and eighty-three against it — giving a 
clear majority of forty-six.f 

The crisis had now come : the king was once more 
to be restored ; and the Independents and the army, 
with Oliver at their head, were to be given up to the 
vengeance of the Presbyterians and royalists. 

pride's purge. 

That night was one of anxious deliberation among 
the officers. At length, they resolved to purge the 
House by force ; and a list of the chief members of the 
Presbyterian party was immediately made out. Next 
morning, the city train-bands being discharged from 
their duty, as guards of parliament, Col. Rich, with a 
regiment of horse, took possession of Palace yard ; while 
Col. Pride, with a regiment of foot, invested Westmin- 
ster Hall, closing every avenue to the House of Com- 

* Guizot says nine o'clock: and makes out that of the twenty-four 
hours which the House sat, twelve of them were consumed by Prynne 
alone — evidently a mistake. 

f Guizot says, one hundred and forty and one hundred and four, 01 
i majority of thirty-six : and a house of 244 instead of 212 members 



23C OLIVER CROMWELL. 

mons. He himself stood at the principal entrance, with 
the list of proscribed members in his hand, and Lord 
Grey of Groby by his side ; who whispered, as this and 
that one approached, "he is one of them." " To the 
queen's court," thundered out Pride; and the soldiers 
eeized them instantly, and hurried them away. The 
members declared loudly against this breach of law; 
the parliament appealed to Fairfax, but to no purpose ; 
and forty-one were thus seized, and marched rather un- 
ceremoniously to a tavern called Hell, where they were 
lodged for the night. The next day, Cromwell suddenly 
entered the House, walking arm in arm with Henry 
Marten, and took his seat. Informed of what was 
going on, he had left the army and the reduction of 
Pontefract Castle to Lambert, and hastened to London. 
" Mr. Speaker," said he, " God is my witness, that I 
know nothing of what has been doing in this House : 
but the work is in hand, and now we must carry 
it through." And it was carried through. " Pride's 
Purge," as this summary purging of parliament was 
called, was continued this day, the 7th, also, till over a 
hundred members were either seized, or frightened into 
flight. Never before was a majority so quickly reduced 
and opposition annihilated. 

The Independents had it now their own way ; and 
after having voted thanks to Cromwell, for the man- 
ner in which he had conducted the Scottish cam- 
paign, revoked the recent acts of parliament respecting 
peace. 

This was another high handed, illegal act, on the 



1648.] pride's purge defended. 231 

part of the republicans ; and was done — as Hugh Peters 
(Fairfax's chaplain) said, when asked by the members 
by what authority they were arrested — " by the power of 
the sword." No one pretends to find any law for such 
a proceeding; and whoever expects a revolution can 
proceed according to law, expects what never did, and 
never can, happen. It is one of the very designs and 
objects of a revolution to overturn authority, and in- 
stitute new rules and new powers. Yet, those who 
suppose this attack on parliament was the result of 
wild phrensy, or headlong enthusiasm, very much mis- 
take the character of the men who planned it. Crom- 
well, evidently, knew nothing of the movement, though 
he declared it met his approval. Even Fairfax, the 
commander-in-chief, was ignorant of it. It was Ire- 
ton's work throughout, though men of nearly equal 
ability and daring were also in the plot. It was 
a well-discussed and deliberate scheme; and, in our 
opinion, justified by the circumstances of the case. 
Here was a king, whom nobody could trust — who had, 
in fact, not surrendered one jot of those claims, to sub- 
stantiate w T hich he had again deluged the kingdom in 
blood — suddenly to be put in power, and the whole 
struggle to be gone over with again. The Presby- 
terians did not believe in his promises : the commis- 
sioners, themselves, knew he did not design to keep his 
word, and grant the concessions which had been 
wrung, with such difficulty, from him. It was a heart- 
less business throughout ; — on the part of the king, a 
deception practised " to facilitate" his "escape;' — on 



xJ32 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

the part of the Presbyterians, a dishonest attempt to 
crush the Independents, who, with the army on their 
side, were getting too strong for them. The very con- 
cessions which they now voted ample, they had again 
and again declared inadmissible. That the parliament 
and king would settle a peace on this basis, no one 
believed. The Presbyterians, however, saw that they 
must choose between their own destruction and a coa- 
lition with Charles ; and so, unhesitatingly, preferred 
the latter, reckless of the evils that might flow from it. 
But, how did the matter present itself to the republican 
leaders ? They penetrated the design, and saw clearly 
that one of three things must be done. First, they must 
consent to be destroyed, and have the army disbanded, 
and the country given over to the political intrigues of the 
Presbyterians and the king, trusting to providence or 
fortune for the result ; or, in the second place, resisting 
all attempts to disband them, as they had heretofore 
done, silently wait for events to take their course, and 
leave the king and his party to bring on another bloody 
war; or, in the third place, do as they did? In the 
one case, they must abandon all that for which they 
had been so long struggling, and leave England to its 
fate ; and, in the other, enter again on all the horrors 
of civil war. There was no escape from one or other of 
these monstrous evils : they were compelled, therefore, 
with their eyes open, to choose between them, or resort 
to violence. So long as there was a possibility that 
parliament would not push matters to such an extrem- 
ity, the republicans contented themselves with remon- 



1648.] THE EEVOHlTION PROGRESSES. 233 

strances and petitions ; but as soon as the vote was car- 
ried, and the step taken, compelling them to look the 
evils before them directly in the face, and make their 
choice, they unhesitatingly employed the only power left 
them — the sword. 

Thus far, amid all the enthusiasm and fanaticism 
which pervaded the army, the leaders have shown 
themselves clear-headed, wise, and prompt ; but the 
next step exhibits more the wild and fierce revolu- 
tionary spirit — we mean, the execution of the king. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. 

The King Brought from Hurst Castle to Windsor — Hislmoeachment— 
Creation of the High Court of Justice to Try Him — Westminster 
ilall during the Trial — Address of President Bradshaw — Inter- 
ruption of the Court by Downs — Conduct of Cromwell — Sentence 
uf the King — His Agitation, and Efforts to be Heard — Interview 
with His Children — Attempts to Save Charles — Conduct of Crom- 
well in Signing the Death-Warrant — The King's Execution — 
Cromwell's Soliloquy over the Corpse — Defence of Him against 
His Biographers — Ireton Chief Actor — Defence of Parliament — 
Character of the King. 

Immediately after this "purge" of parliament, peti- 
tions came pouring in, to have the king tried for the 
evils he had brought on the realm. They were granted ; 
and a detachment, under Major Harrison, was sent to 
Hurst Castle, to bring him to Windsor. It arrived at 
the castle at midnight ; and Charles, aroused out of his 
sleep, by the noise made in lowering the draw-bridge, 
rang, in alarm, for Herbert, who slept in an adjoining 
room, and sent him out to inquire who had come. On 
being told, Major Harrison, he became so deeply agitated, 
that Herbert wept in sympathy. Charles, on witness- 
ing his emotion, said, " I am not afraid ; but do you 
not know that this is the man, who, 1 was told, during 
the last treaty, was to assassinate me? This is a place 



1649.] THE KING BROUGHT TO TRIAL. 235 

fit for such a purpose." But, when he was informed that 
the detachment had come to take him to Windsor, he 
was pacified ; and, two days after, under the guard of 
Lieutenant-Colonel Cobbett, cheerfully set out for his 
former palace, and the scenes of his early pleasures. 
Lord Newburgh, with whom he dined on his way, en- 
deavored to persuade him to make his escape on one of 
his fleet horses; but Charles refused; and, December 
23d, entered Windsor — the same day on which a motion 
to impeach him was carried, and a committee of thirty- 
eight appointed to make out the charges. Henry 
Marten and Thomas Scott were the chief members of 
the committee — both accomplished men, able states 
men, and daring republicans. On the 28th, an ordi 
nance for his trial passed the lower House. On that 
very day, also, Charles received an order from the 
council of war, directing that the ceremonies of regal 
state, which had heretofore been extended to him — 
such as being served by a cup-bearer, on bended knee, 
with a chamberlain, maitre d'hotel, esquire carver, &c, 
should hereafter be dispensed with. 

On the first day of the new year, 1649, the commit- 
tee made their report, accusing Charles Stuart, king of 
England, of high treason ; and the next day sent the 
charge and evidence to the House of Lords. The lat- 
ter immediately rejected them, and adjourned for a 
week — an act the commissioners construed into an 
abdication of their functions, and so proceeded to 
try the king without them. A fresh ordinance was 
passed in the name of the House of Commons, by 



\>3t) OLIVER CROMWELL. 

which a high court of justice, consisting of one hun« 
dred and thirty-five members, was created. Of these, 
there were Viscount Lisle, Lord Grey of Groby, 
Lord Monson, Fairfax, Cromwell, Skippon, Ireton, 
Marten, and all the colonels of the army, three ser- 
geants-at-iaw, five barristers, five aldermen of Lon- 
don, one knight of the Bath, eleven baronets, and ten 
knights. Eighty- two were members of the House of 
Commons. 

Such an august court might try the emperor of the 
world, and not be accused of presumption. It met on 
the 8th of January, and nominated its officers and 
council. The next day, a new, great seal — the seal of 
the commonwealth of England, was ordered by the 
House of Commons. The day following, the high 
court met, and appointed John Bradshaw, a cousin of 
Milton's, sergeant- at-law, and chief justice of Chester, 
president. Perhaps a more fitting man could not have 
been chosen for this high and responsible office. 
Learned, upright, calm, grave, self-collected, and, when 
demanded of him, inflexible and stern as death, he w T as 
well-calculated to direct the proceedings of one of the 
most extraordinary tribunals ever erected upon the 
earth. 

Steele, Coke, Dr. Dorislaus, and Aske, were coun 
sel for the prosecution. 

Everything being ready, the king was privately 
brought from Windsor, on the 19th of January; and 
the next morning, conducted by Harrison, before the 
court assembled in Westminster. The members re- 



1649.] the king's trial. 237 

duced in numbers, on account of many refusing to sit 
as judges, were in private session in the painted 
chamber, where prayer had just been offered, when it 
was announced that the king was coming. Cromwell 
immediately turned to the court, and said, " Let us 
resolve here, what answer we shall give the king, when 
he comes before us ; for the first question he will ask 
of us, will be, by what authority and commission we 
try him ?"* A pause ensued, when Marten rose, and 
replied, " In the name of the commons, and parlia- 
ment assembled, and all the good people of Eiigland." 
Ample authority in times of revolution. They then 
adjourned to Westminster Hall, with Bradshaw at their 
head, preceded by sixteen armed officers. Bradshaw, 
dressed in a scarlet robe, and wearing his ever-after- 
ward renowned broad-brimmed hat lined with steel, 
took his seat in the centre of the court, in a scarlet- 
cushioned chair. The members ranged themselves on 
either side of him on benches, covered with scarlet cloth 
■ — also keeping their hats on their heads. At each ex- 
tremity of this long line of republican judges — sixty- 

* Guizot, and Dr. d'Aubigne following him, says, " he turned pale." 
These writers contradict themselves sadly. At one time, Cromwell 
is so tender and faint-hearted, that he turns pale at the sight of the 
king ; at another, so destitute of feeling, that he is guilty of buf- 
foonery when signing his death-warrant; and again, made of such 
hardened material, that he, voluntarily, goes to gaze and muse on the 
royal corpse. It is not likely that he who had so often charged home 
on the king in battle, turned pale to see him pass the window, 
guarded by soldiers. The statement rests on the testimony of a single 
witness, given after the restoration, and who, doubtless, mistook his 
own pallor for that of Cromwell. 



238 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

nine in number, stood men at arms, a little in advance, 
so as to command a view of the whole. Below the 
president, beside a table covered with a rich Turk- 
ish cloth, on which lay the sword of state and mace, 
sat the two clerks of the court. 

As soon as the great gates of the hall were thrown 
open, the crowd poured in, and filled all the space be- 
low, together with the galleries allotted to the spec- 
tators. Silence being restored, the President said, 
" Sergeant, bring in the prisoner !" A moment of 
breathless suspense followed ; and then, Charles Stuart, 
of England, walked slowly, calmly in, guarded by 
thirty-three officers ; and after gazing sternly and coldly 
on the crowd and court, with his hat on, took his seat at 
the bar, facing the judges. The next moment he rose 
again to his feet, and turning round, looked down the 
vast hall — first, on the guards ranged in order on the 
left ; and then, upon the sea of heads that crowded the 
space to the right, without saying a word, or betray- 
ing the least agitation or fear. As he again turned 
to the court, his eye fell on the new escutcheon of the 
commonwealth, on either side of which sat Oliver Crom- 
well and Marten. That insignia of the new common- 
wealth, between two such men, spoke volumes to the 
king ; and he sank in his seat. 

Bradshaw then rose, and said, " Charles Stuart, king 
of England, the commons of England, in parliament 
assembled, taking notice of the effusion of blood in the 
land, which is fixed on you, as the author of it, and 
whereof you are guilty, have resolved to bring you to 



1 649.] the king's defence. 289 

a trial and judgment; and, for this cause, the tribunal 
is created. The charge will now be read by the soli- 
citor-general." The attorney-general, Coke (or, as some 
have it, Cook), then rose to read it, when the king 
tapped him on the shoulder with his cane, exclaiming, 
"Silence!" in a tone of high command. The gold head 
of the cane was knocked off in the action, and the 
king himself was compelled to stoop and pick it up 
His superstitious nature immediately construed it into 
an evil omen ; and, for a moment, his working features 
revealed the agitation of his breast. Coke then went 
on to the end without interruption, charging him with 
abuse of power, with tyranny, and shedding the blood of 
his people, in short, of high treason. The king sat the 
while motionless as marble, save as the words "tyrant, 
traitor, murderer," smote his ear, when a slight smile 
passed over his features. The reading being finished, 
the president said, "You have heard the charge — the 
court awaits your answer." Charles replied, that he did 
not recognise the authority by which he was arraigned 
— that it was but a short time since he was negotiating 
a treaty with parliament, and now he was arrested as a 
culprit — that two houses were necessary to a parlia- 
ment, but he saw none of the lords here — that a king 
was also necessary to a parliament, and when con- 
vinced of the legality of the tribunal before him, he 
would answer, and not before. The president replied, 
that it was by the authority of "the people of Eng- 
land;" authority sufficient for them, if not for him ; and 



240 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

that he must plead to the charge, or it would be taken 
pro coiifesso. 

The whole time of sitting was spent in arguing the 
authority of the court. On Monday it met again, and 
this and the next day were occupied in the same fruit- 
less altercation. The fourth and fifth days the court 
sat in the painted chamber, and was employed in 
hearing witnesses. On the evening of the last day 

ie 25th), a vote was passed declaring the king to be a 
cxaitor, tyrant, and enemy to his country; and a com- 
mittee of seven, Marten, Harrison, Say, Ireton, Scot, 
Lisle, and Love, were appointed to draw up the sen- 
tence. The next day, the form of the charge* was dis- 
cussed with closed doors, and finally adopted. The fol- 
lowing morning, the court met for the last time, and the 
king was brought in to receive sentence. As he passed 
through one of the entrances, some soldiers cried 
out " justice," " execution ;" but one of them upon 
guard said, "God bless you," for which his officer 
struck him. " The punishment," said the king, mildly, 
" methinks exceeds the offence. "f 

* See Appendix. 

f Guizot has a long account of the insults heaped on the king, such 
as puffing tobacco-smoke in his face, and mocking him in brutal lan- 
guage ; some writers have declared that the soldiers spit in his face. 
The details of Guizot on this point, are, to say the least, apocryphal. 
What might have been said in the crowd, out of hearing of the king 
and his guard, is entirely irrelevant: coarse jokes are heard around 
every scaffold and gallows, and, doubtless, were uttered during the 
King's trial, and these have been preserved and very easily made to 
have been uttered to his face. But Herbert, the king's constant atten- 
dant, makes no mention of these brutalities in his account of the matter 



1649.] DISORDER OF THE COURT. 241 

Being again at the bar, Charles attempted to speak, 
but was sternly silenced by the president, who bade him 
first listen to the court and then, afterwards, before 
sentence was pronounced, he should have liberty to say 
what he wished. The king then requested to be heard 
in the painted chamber by both Houses of Parliament, 
assembled, " on a proposal,'' he added, " which is of far 
more importance to the peace of the kingdom and the 
liberty of my subjects than to my own preservation." 
Some great and secret meaning was supposed by many 
to be conveyed in this language, and the whole assem- 
bly and court became at once deeply agitated : some 
thought that he designed to abdicate in favor of his 
son ; but, if so, he would doubtless have hinted his 
wishes, and also afterwards have mentioned the fact 
to his friends. It was, probably, simply a last and des- 
perate effort to escape his doom, by casting himself on 
the two Houses of Parliament. The discussion of the 
request by the court threw it into disorder; and at 
length, one of the members, Col. Downes, arose and 

except the one specified above, which he certainly would have done 
had they occurred. In fact, he says, that the king, after retiring on 
the last day after the trial, asked him if he heard the cry for justice 
He replied that he did, and wondered at it. ''I did not" said the king ; 
" it was, doubtless, given to please the officers, for whom the soldiers 
would do the like, were there occasion." But Herbert would not have 
given Huch minute particulars of this and yet left out grosser insults. 
The truth is, the whole account, as given by royalist writers after the 
restoration, is unworthy of credit. The scene in the gallery, too, re- 
sulting from the bold interruption of Fairfax's wife, is stated by Gui- 
zot to have occurred on the last day of the trial, while Hume puts it 
on the first. 

11 



242 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

declared he could not agree to the sentence, and re- 
quested the court to adjourn and hear him. With the 
same dignified composure which had characterized all 
his acts as president of that body, Bradshaw arose and 
said, " If any one of the court be not satisfied the court 
must adjourn," and the members immediately retired to 
a private room. No sooner were they by themselves, 
than Cromwell is said to have assailed Downes with 
harsh upbraidings for having disturbed the court. The 
latter defended himself, declaring that all they wanted 
were good guarantees from the king and they ought to 
hear his proposals. Cromwell replied, that he did not 
know he had to do with the hardest man on the earth — 
that his scruples about not receiving the king's pro- 
position were a farce, and his motive was to save his old 
master. The truth is, he saw through poor Downes, 
and detected in his agitation simply the quailing of a 
weak and irresolute spirit. After half an hour's de- 
liberation, the court returned to the hall, and told the 
king that his proposition had been rejected. It fell like 
the blow of a hammer on the unhappy monarch, for he 
saw his last hope departing. 

Bradshaw now asked him if he had anything more to 
say. He replied that he had nothing more. The for- 
mer then rose to pronounce sentence ; but before he or- 
dered the clerk to read it, he made a long speech to the 
king, in which he, without insult, and yet without fear, 
went through a searching and terrible review of the past 
few years — of his course with parliament and with the na- 
tion. He exposed his tyranny, his falsehood, and deceit* 



'. 649.] THE SENTENCE. 243 

showed how he had compelled his subjects to resistance 
and charged sternly home upon him the blood shed in the 
two civil wars which had finally prostrated his power. 
It was a thrilling and awful scene, and new in the his- 
tory of the world — a republican judge, in the presence 
and by the authority of " the people," pronouncing 
a verdict of guilt against a king in the heart of his 
own realm. Every word uttered without agitation 
or haste, was heard distinctly to the farthest end 
of the vast and crowded hall. A breathless interest 
sealed every tongue ; and as the relentless judge pro- 
ceeded to recount the enormities the king had been 
guilty of, a slight agitation was visible in the dark mass 
of republican heads ; and eyes grew sterner, and looks 
more resolute. A solemnity, like that of the grave, sat 
on the countenances of the judges, as they there, in the 
person of their president, declared before the world the 
" sovereignty of the people'' and threw down " the head 
of a king as the gage of the battle," they would fight 
to maintain it. And there sat the king, at length fully 
aroused by the decree made out against him, and which 
till lately he did not believe his enemies dare pro- 
nounce. Grave as the judge — his luxuriant hair, 
turned slightly grey, falling gracefully around a coun- 
tenance on which misfortune had made sad inroads — 
he manifested no emotion till near the close of the 
address, when his features became suddenly agitated. 
His lost realm, his wife, his children, the bloody 
scaffold, passed in terrible distinctness before him — and 
the firm monarch shook. 



244 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Bradshaw having finished, he ordered the clerk to 
read the sentence. The king would have interrupted 
him, but Bradshaw arrested him, and the sentence was 
read. Not a murmur — not a sound broke the death- 
like silence, that had fallen on the assembly. Charles, 
however, again attempted to speak, exclaiming, " Will 
you hear me a word ?" " Sir," replied Bradshaw, " you 
are not to be heard after the sentence." " No, sir ?" 
imploringly asked the king. " No, sir, by your favor !" 
was the cold reply ; followed by, " Guards, withdraw the 
prisoner!" For the first time throughout his trial, 
Charles lost that self-possession, and calm dignity, which 
had extorted the admiration even of his enemies. For 
a moment, human nature gave way — the man and 
the father triumphed over the king, and in a penitent 
and humble tone, he cried out, " I may speak after the 
sentence, by your favor, sir — I may speak after the 
sentence, ever by your favor?" "Hold!" sternly inter- 
rupted the inflexible judge, and made a sign to the guards, 
who approached. " The sentence, sir," agonizingly 
exclaimed the king; "/ say, sir, I do — " "Hold! 5 
again broke from the pallid lips of the president, and the 
condemned and desolate king was hurried away, saying, 
"I am not suffered to speak. Expect what justice 
other people will have." 

This trying scene over, Charles was himself again. 
Only three days were to intervene between his sentence 
and death; and finding that all that time would be 
necessary to prepare himself for his doom, he gave 
orders to have his friends refused admittance, that his 



1649.] SIGNS THE DEATH-WARRANT. 245 

last hours might not be disturbed. Bishop Juxon was 
allowed to attend him, and free permission given him to 
see whomsoever he desired. He wished to see only 
his children — and the Princess Elizabeth, and Duke 
of Gloucester, the former twelve, and the latter eight 
years of age — they being the only ones near him — ■ 
were brought to his prison. The interview was touch- 
ing in the extreme. After giving his last advice, 
and blessing them, he rose and ordered Juxon to have 
them removed ; while, to hide his grief, he stood with 
his face pressed close against the window — the tears 
streaming from his eyes. But the sobs of the chil- 
dren, as they passed through the door, were too much 
for his parental heart, and turning suddenly round, he ran 
Up to them, and snatched them to his breast, while they, in 
turn, loaded him with endearing caresses. At length, 
tearing himself away, he saw the door close on them 
for ever, and then fell on his knees and began to pray. 
The worst struggle was now over, and he prepared to 
meet his fate with composure. 

In the meantime, it was with difficulty that the sig- 
natures of the judges to. the death-warrant could be 
obtained : many hesitated to place their names to a 
document which might cover them and their .fami- 
lies with lasting disgrace and ruin. At length, fifty- 
nine signed it — Oliver Cromwell being the third.* It is 
said on pretty good authority, that when he had written 
his name, he drew the pen across Marten's face, besmear- 
ing it with ink; which practical joke was returned by the 

* Vide Appendix III 



246 o l r V E R OR M w ell. 

latter. This has been brought forward by some, to 
prove the inhumanity and brutality of Cromwell.* But 
there are only a few, however, even of his worst ene- 
mies, who venture to charge him with being inhuman. 
This singular act might have been committed in a 
fit of desperation, to throw off the burden w T hich was 
crushing him to the earth : but more probably to break 
up the apathy and awe which had fallen on the mem- 
bers. It was difficult to persuade them to affix their 
signatures to the sentence : for it was, in fact, commit- 
ting a deed, the awfulness of which we cannot now 
appreciate. As Carlyle says : " the truth is, no modern 
reader can conceive the then atrocity, ferocity, un- 
speakability, of the act. Alas, if in these irreverent 
times of ours, all the kings of Europe were to be cut in 
pieces at one swoop, and flung in heaps in St. Mar- 
garet's Churchyard on the same day, the emotion would, 
in strict arithmetical truth, be small in comparison ! 
We know it not, the atrocity of the English regicides — 
shall never know it." The regicides felt all this ; and 
Cromwell, who saw that to flinch or waver then would 
be utter ruin, may have nerved himself to this sudden 
ouffoonery, to show that he, for one, was willing to risk 
the consequences; and also start those around him 
from their sombre mood. That it was the result of 
mere barbarity, no one but a bigot would affirm. 
Bloody as his life was, his enemies dare not say that 

* Guizot says, " Cromwell himself, gay, noisy, daring as ever, gave 
way to his usual coarse buffoonery" — a wholesale statement as false 
as it is unworthy an impartial historian 



1649.] ATTEMPTS TO SAVE THE KING. 247 

his nature was cruel, even Clarendon clears him from 
such a charge. 

It was to be expected that strenuous efforts would be 
made to save the king : but whether the monarchs of 
Europe did not believe the people would carry things 
to such an extremity, or disliked to threaten a power 
w 7 hich the last few years had given them sufficient 
cause to fear, not one of them interfered in his behalf. 
The United Provinces, a republic, alone interposed. 
His wife, the Prince of Wales, and personal friends, 
strove nobly to save him. Scotland also sent commis- 
sioners to Cromwell, protesting against the execution. 
Lieutenant-General Drummond was present at the in- 
terview; and afterwards stated that Cromwell entered 
into a long discourse on the nature of regal power; 
and " had plainly the better of them at their own 
weapons and upon their own principles" Fairfax also 
resolved to interfere, but knew not how to do it effectu- 
ally : and Sir John Cromwell, a relative of Oliver, then 
in the Dutch service, arrived in all haste from the 
Hague, bringing letters from the Princes of Wales and 
Orange, offering any conditions Cromwell might impose, 
if he would spare the king. He hoped to succeed in 
his mission, from the fact that Oliver had once de- 
clared he would not allow the royal head to be touched. 
It is said that he urged on him the disgrace that would 
attach to his name, if he persisted ; and the honor which 
would accrue, if he would interpose between Charles 
and the scaffold. Being somewhat shaken in his resolu- 
tion, Cromwell desired his cousin to wait f ill nisht for 



248 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

his answer. In the meantime, he and his friends sought 
by prayer what the will of the Lord was ; and being 
assured that the death of the king alone could save 
England, sent a messenger to Sir John, at midnight, 
informing him that the Lord had confirmed their deci- 
sion ; and all further interference would be fruitless. 

There is, doubtless, some truth, and a good deal of 
error, in this anecdote. That Cromwell and his com- 
panions prayed, is very probable ; but, that the latter 
was, for one momen f , shaken, or endeavored in any 
way to avert the sentence, is highly improbable. The 
attempt would have been madness. The fierce repub- 
licans who had brought the king to trial, were determined, 
to sacrifice him, and he could not prevent it. Besides, no 
one ever knew this stern man to swerve from a reso- 
lution once formed, especially on so momentous a 
subject as this. 

Another anecdote, showing that Cromwell wrote the 
order for the execution, because Colonel Huncks dared 
not do it, rests entirely on the testimony of the latter — 
who, after the former was dead, and the Stuarts re- 
stored, had the strongest motives to pretend, that he 
himself was averse to the warrant. Such testimony 
should always be taken with distrust. 

But, everything failed to stay the terrible sentence ; 
and on the 30th of January, the execution took place. 
The last hours of Charles, were his best ; and he never 
appeared so much a king, as when he mounted the 
scaffold. After forgiving his enemies — praying in the 
presence of the awe-struck multitude, and declaring his 



1649.] THE EXECUTION. 249 

confidence that he was going from a corruptible, to an 
incorruptible, crown, he lay calmly down, and putting 
aside his clustering hair, himself gave the signal to 
strike. The next moment, the bleeding head of Charles 
Stuart was held aloft by a man in a mask,* who ex- 
claimed, " This is the head of a traitor !" A loud groan 
from the assembled multitude, was the only response, 
and the mournful tragedy was over. 

There is another anecdote of Cromwell, connected 
with this melancholy event, which Hume, and most 
other historians, have given as true; that while the exe- 
cution was going on, Cromwell, Ireton, and Harrison, 
(some say Ireton and Harrison,) were engaged in 
prayer with Fairfax, to keep him in ignorance of it till 
all was over. This piece of knavish hypocrisy has been 
told so frequently, that it is generally considered a fact. 
To say nothing of the ridiculous supposition, that Fair- 
fax did not know the day, nay, even the hour, of the 
royal execution, when all the world knew it ; such a 
childish proceeding, on the part of Cromwell and his 
friends, is too absurd to be entertained for a mo- 
ment. If, however, any wish for evidence, they will 
find it in the report of the ambassadors of Holland, 
to their government, in which they declare, that 
about twelve o'clock, on the day of the execution, 
they had an interview with Fairfax, to persuade him, 
at the last moment, to grant a reprieve if nothing 
more ; and departed with the hope, that they had suc- 

* The sxecutioner was also masked, and dressed in the guise of 

a sailor. 

11* 



2f>0 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ceeded : but, on entering the street, they saw that al] 
the preparations for the catastrophe were made, and 
the king was expected every moment to appear.* In a 
few minutes he did appear, and ascended the scaffold, 
so that standard historians, in adopting the slander, 
make out that Cromwell and his friends were hypocriti- 
caly praying with Fairfax, to conceal the approaching 
death of the king from him, at the same time the com- 
missioners from Holland were urging him to make no 
delay to interpose Lis power to stay the execution. But, 
considering all the circumstances in the case — that the 
death of the king was compared to the crucifixion oj 
Christ ; also, that at the restoration, the greatest libel- 
lers of Cromwell were the most liberally rewarded — it 
is not so strange that these false statements have crept 
into history. The wonder is, that more plausible and 
more damning ones have not been invented. When 
malice, hate, and selfishness, not only unrestrained, but 
fostered into hugest vigor, by a rotten government, can 
lay no heavier charges on an enemy, than those brought 
against Cromwell, his character must be pure, straight- 
forward, and open to an astonishing degree. We ven- 
ture to say, no other man ever stood in his position, 
and escaped so lightly. 

There seems good ground for believing that he went 
to see the king's body after it was deposited in the 
coffin. Bowtell, a private soldier, who was on guard at 
the time, says, that Cromwell endeavored to remove the 
lid with his staff; but, not. succeeding, took his (the 

* Vide Appendix XV., to Guizot's English Revolution. 



1649.] GAZES ON THE KINg's CORPSE. 251 

soldier's) sword, and with the hilt forced it open, and 
gazed long and steadily on the corpse. Then, as if 
speaking to himself, murmured in solemn accents, 
" This was a well-constituted frame, and promised a long 
life" Such a scene would be worthy the pencil of the 
most gifted painter. The stern republican, gazing fix- 
edly on the body of his dead king! What strange 
thoughts swept over his soul, as he contemplated the 
lifeless form in which so lately lay embodied the sove- 
reign power of England. The past, with its turbulent 
battle-fields and wild commotions, rushed over his 
memory, while fathomless abysses opened in the untried 
future. Through the blood of thousands of men — of 
nobles, of priests, and last of all, of the king himself — 
he had waded heavily onward ; and now, what was the 
next step before him ? Return was hopeless. On he 
must, at all hazards. With the tide, if still forward — 
sternly breasting it, if refluent, his course was clear ; 
but the end, alas! that was veiled in darkness. Per- 
haps, like the severed trunk before him, he would yet 
be thus gazed on by his enemies.* 

The king's death sent a thrill of horror over the 
world. It was a new page opened in its history, which 
every one trembled to read. At that time, mere am- 

* Bowtell testifies that he interrupted Cromwell in thp midst of 
his reflections, as he gazed on the king, asking him what governmen' 
they were to have. " The same that there was" he replied ; and still 
contemplated the lifeless body. Whether Cromwell was a man to 
brook in those circumstances, so rude an interruption from a private 
soldier, or, in such a mood, was likely to be interrupted by one who 
knew his character, 1 leave others to judge. 



252 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

bitious men would not have dared to commit such an 
ac t — it needed higher motives — a strong, religious en- 
thusiasm, ever proclaiming trumpet-tongued, that it 
was the will of God, and crying, " Woe to him that 
shrinks in the day of evil!" 

The death of Charles has been almost universally 
laid at the door of Cromwell, yet. for no other reason 
that we can see, except, that he eventually mounted to 
his place. He had less to do with it than almost any 
other man in the Independent party. Indeed, he seem- 
ed to have forecast such an event and struggled man- 
fully to prevent it. He knew, two years before, that 
the ultra republicans in the army were bent on a re- 
public and would be satisfied with nothing less than one. 
It was this knowledge which, as before remarked 
prompted him to negotiate with the king, and cling to 
the hope that he would concede to the proposals made 
him, and establish the government so seriously threat- 
ened with total overthrow, until he well nigh lost his 
hold on the army for ever. He stood up against this 
terrible under-current of democracy, which was bearing 
everything to chaos, till he like to have gone down 
himself in the flood. And, when the second civil war 
broke out, he was glad to get away from the strife of 
factions and again meet the enemy in the field. He 
had but little time while in Wales, or fisfhtinsc with the 
Scotch at Preston, to attend to matters around parlia- 
ment. Every step for its overthrow, and to bring the 
king \o trial, had been taken during his absence. On 
his return, he saw at once how matters stood — the 



1649.] DEFENCE OF HIS COURSE. 253 

crisis had come, and he must act. He threw his in- 
fluence with his friends and the army, and if he had 
done otherwise he would have been ten times more 
a traitor and hypocrite than his enemies endeavor to 
make him out. True, he found his party violent, but 
what had made them so ? Things had been pushed to 
extremities, but who had pushed them ? Not he — not 
his friends, but his enemies, by being content with 
nothing less than his and their destruction. Even 
Bishop Burnet declares that, " Ireton was the person 
who drove it on (the death of the king), for Cromwell 
was all the while in some suspense about it. Ireton 
had the spirit and temper of a Cassius in him, he stuck 
at nothing that might have turned England to a Com- 
monwealth." He might have added, that the army 
drove it on, fully resolved on punishing the "chief de- 
linquent," as they termed him. It was this that made 
Cromwell declare in parliament that he would have 
regarded the man who proposed the deposition of the 
king as the greatest traitor and rebel in the world; 
" but since the providence of God had cast this upon 
them, he could not but submit to providence, though he 
was not yet prepared to give his advice." The irresisti- 
ble force of circumstances he construed into a provi- 
dence. Besides the cavaliers and Presbyterians left 
him no choice — he must either surrender his army, and 
his principles, or seize the power they so unjustly wield- 
ed. Slandered, while absent ; undermined, when in 
the very act of saving his country at the risk of his 
own life he was compelled to turn at bay, and nobly 



254 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

defending himself, endeavor to force his assailants to 
moderation and justice. Failing in this, he fell in 
wrath upon them, and his was not a hand to strike 
twice. His history was that of the army and of the 
Independent leaders in parliament, so that he is only one 
among a multitude responsible for the death of the king. 

But was the party, itself, of which he was only a 
member, guilty of so great a wrong ? "Regicide /" is 
an ugly epithet, but it sounds much worse, we imagine, 
in Europe than in this country. The doctrine that 
" the king can do no wrong," has no adherents here, 
and is fast getting obsolete in the civilized world. It is 
curious to hear the outcry made when a prince of the 
blood falls ; w T hile a thousand men, each better and 
nobler than he, can be slain and no surprise expressed. 
Thus, the murder of the Due D'Enghien horrified Chris- 
tendom, and loaded Bonaparte with opprobrium ; while 
the attempts to assassinate the latter by the Bourbons 
shocked no one's sensibilities. His murder would have 
been a thing of course, and the perpetrator, doubtless, 
received a rich reward. So, the execution of Charles, 
who accounted the rights of his people as nothing, was 
a damning act'; but had he hung Cromwell, his superior 
both in virtue and intellect, high as Haman, it would 
have excited the horror of none of these royalist 
writers. Now, we cannot sympathise in these dis- 
tinctions — we think, that a whole army of such men as 
Charles I. or II. had better die than one Cromwell. 

The trial and condemnation of the king, every one 
will admit, were acts of violence, and done against all 



1649.] DEFENCE OF THE REGICIDES. 255 

precedent, and in contempt of all recognised judicial 
forms. But, it is not to be expected, that revolutionary 
acts, will be constitutional ones. The question of right 
and wrong, is to be settled farther back — was the revo- 
lution itself justifiable? If the oppression and injus- 
tice were so great, as to demand the resistance of the 
people, then the character of all after acts is to be 
determined by the necessities of the case, and not by 
constitutions or judicial forms. The very term revo- 
lution pre-supposes the overthrow of these, and the in- 
stitution of new powers, and new authority, in their 
places. If the revolution is justifiable, then everything 
necessary to secure the object for which it was set in 
motion, is justifiable. Mark, we say " necessary ;" not 
all that is esteemed so. The overthrow of thrones- 
kings sent fugitive over the world — the destruction of 
feudal systems, may seem daring and terrible to loyalty ; 
but they are matters of course* When once it is 
settled that a revolution is based on the eternal prin- 
ciples of truth and justice, and demands nothing but 
the inalienable rights of man, then its authority is para- 
mount to all other. Now, we claim all this for the 
English revolution. First, reformation was sought, and 
in a legal way — through parliament.* The guarantees 
and rights demanded, were perfectly just and proper; 
and if they had been graciously granted, no violence 
would have followed. Lords and commons united, 
and appealed to the constitution and laws of England. 
Charles, false, treacherous, and oppressive, resisted 

* A slight recapitulation h-*ve, seems necessary. 



<>56 OLIVER CROMWELI 

their claims — insulted and oppressed the representatives 
of the people, while in discharge of their sacred duties. 
Frequent dissolutions, and eleven years of arbitrary 
rule, were borne with patience, until, at last, the king 
resorted to arms to carry out his tyrannical purposes. 
Then, parliament must either retract its principles, 
forgo its claims, and the members prove false to their 
oath, and to the people of England, or defend their 
rights by arms. Thus, reformation passed into revo- 
lution, or, rather, was forced into it by the obdurate 
king. The struggle, once commenced, there was no 
retreating — one or the other must yield. The king 
would not ; and so the war went on, until his ruin was 
completed. The former could, at any time, have 
quenched the flame of civil war, and restored peace 
by surrendering his foolish prerogatives, and acknow- 
ledging himself responsible to his subjects ; but the 
parliament could not retract, except by proving re- 
creant to the constitution of England, and the liberty 
of the people. So that, up to the overthrow of Charles, 
there can be but one opinion among those who believe 
in the sovereignty of the people, where lay the rights of 
the quarrel. 

It is clear, then, that a king who could not be 
trusted, and would not be just, should be disposed of. 
Death, or deposition and exile ; these were the two 
alternatives. The latter, undoubtedly, would have been 
preferable, and perhaps as safe ; for royalty was not 
extinguished by clipping off one of the branches ; while 
the hardihood of the act gave a character of despera- 



,649.] DEFENCE OF THE REGICIDES. 257 

lion to the revolution, calculated to shake the affec- 
tion of those who had hitherto defended it. Still we 
cannot see anything so very criminal in it ; nor discern 
the force of the nice distinction men make between 
cutting off the king's head with an axe, or taking him 
out of the world with a cannon-ball. These very 
leaders who sat in judgment on their monarch had 
often met him in battle, and piled the dead around 
his person. They had been called by the supreme 
government to bend their strength against him on the 
tented field, and had sought him through the doubtful 
fight; and thus through long years of civil war been 
regicides in the eye of the law. That they should 
think it no greater wrong to cut off his head than to 
fire upon him in the open field, ought not to seem so 
strange. Besides, if a private individual, from mere 
personal ambition, had trampled on constitutional rights; 
on parliament; on the people; and deluged the realm 
in blood, as Charles had done, merely to sustain his 
royal prerogative ; not a tear would have been shed over 
his grave. So much do outward circumstances affect 
our perceptions of justice. 

But, on the other hand, Charles was the lawful king of 
England, and looked upon the violence of his subjects as 
unnatural and unjustifiable rebellion. He was not a 
tyrant, like Nero, scorning the happiness and welfare of 
his people, and intent only on the gratification of his sel- 
fish passions. He had done what he supposed to be 
right and propel : for, to him, the preservation of the 
royal dignity and power was more important than the 



258 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

liberties of the people. He was not a traitor ; he was not 
a debased and sensual man, like the son who succeeded 
him ; still we cannot but turn with contempt from his 
character. Always under the influence of weak minds, 
he violated his solemn promise, and signed the death- 
warrant of the only really able minister he ever possess- 
ed, the Earl of Strafford ; and fixed a lasting stain on his 
honor. Weak and irresolute, he, nevertheless, committed 
many foolish and rash acts ; and possessed all the dupli- 
city necessary to constitute an unprincipled statesman, 
without the shrewdness indispensable to success. False 
to his friends, and false to his enemies, his own counsel- 
lors blushed at his hollow-heartedness. Says Clarendon, 
in a letter to Nicolas, " Mr. Secretary, these stratagems 
have given me more sad hours than all the misfortunes 
in war which have befallen the king ; and look like 
God's anger towards us." He carried his deceit to 
such an extent, that, in time, nobody would trust him. 
He is sometimes called a religious man, and claimed as a 
martyr to Episcopacy ; yet there was more superstition 
mingled with his religion than with that of Cromwell. 
He would give £500 to a conjurer, to be informed 
where he should be safest ; and was more alarmed by 
the falling of the head of his cane, on his trial, than by 
the stern aspect of his judges. His love for Episcopacy 
grew out of his love of monarchy, of which he regarded it 
a chief support; indeed, to use his own expression, 
"stronger than that of the army. Yet he went to Scot- 
land, and attended Presbyterian meetings; and listen- 
ed respectfully to the long harangues of Presbyterian 



1649.] CHARACTER OF CHARLES. 259 

divines, in order to show in what high esteem he held 
their forms of religion : he even confirmed the Scotch 
declaration, that to govern the church by arch- 
bishops and bishops, was contrary to the word of 
God. We also find him making large promises to 
the Irish, equivalent to establishing Papacy in Ireland. 
Indeed, he went so far in his last treaty with the 
Presbyterians at Newport, that he consented to abol- 
ish archbishops, deacons, prebends, and canons, and 
submit to the Presbyterian form of church govern- 
ment, for three years. And even then, nothing was to be 
be restored to these bishops but the power of ordination ; 
and that to be used in connexion with the advice of 
the Presbytery. Finally, he consented to renounce the 
Book of Common Prayer, asking only the liberty of using 
some other liturgy in his own chapel.* These were the 
concessions declared by parliament to be sufficient for 
the basis of a settlement of the nation ; and nothing but 
the violence of the army prevented them from being 
acted upon. Charles, therefore, would have been com- 
pelled to sanction what his defenders would consider, 
now, a betrayal of the church ; or acknowledge himself 
perjured in the sight of the world. The summary 
manner in which a third party disposed both of king 
and parliament, alone saved him from making this 
exhibition of himself. Now, standing by the church ; 
and now, yielding to the demands of the bigoted Pres- 
byterians ; and again exciting the hopes of the Catho- 
lics he furnishes the most pitiable spectacle of a man 
* Vide Hurce. 



260 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

without faith, and a king without a conscience 
we have ever witnessed. Those who claim such 
a champion forget all the king would have done, 
had not death cut short his career. Sympathy, rather 
than principle, has converted him into a martyr. A 
martyr he indeed died — not to the church, but to the 
love of arbitrary power. Yet withal, he was a weak 
rather than a bad man ; and excites our contempt, more 
than hatred. He wrought his own ruin ; and forced 
the republicans to every act they committed against 
him, but the last. That was impolitic and wrong : but 
who can expect years of exasperation to end, in the 
moment of triumph, in moderate justice ? Sad and mel- 
ancholy as was the king's fate, it was not without its 
lesson. That, together with the execution of Louis 
XVI., has stood, and still stands, as a perpetual warning 
to monarchs who would trample on the rights of their 
subjects. The scaffold of Charles I. and the guillotine 
of Louis XVI. are the ghosts which at this day frighten 
the despots of Europe from their oppressions. 



CHAPTER IX. 

CAMPAIGN IN IRELAND FROM 1649 TO MAY, 1650. 

Establishment of a Republic — Milton Chosen Secretary of the Execu- 
tive Council — The Levellers — Cromwell Appointed to Command 
the Expedition to Ireland — Insurrection Quelled by Him — Pomp 
and Splendor of His Departure — Marriage of His Son Richard- 
Arrives at Dublin — Cruelties of the Irish — Storming and Mas- 
sacre of Drogheda— Of Wexford — History of His Movements — Re- 
called to Resist the Scotch Invasion — Character of the Campaign — 
Defence of Cromwell — Final Settlement of Ireland. 

The dispersion of parliament by the army, and the 
execution of the king, rendered any compromise of the 
republicans with the royalists, impossible. The revo- 
lution could no longer stand still, and negotiate — it 
must go forward or downward. Heretofore, men's 
minds had been too much engaged in the struggle, to 
forecast clearly what the state of things would be, 
when these mighty obstacles in the way of progress 
should be removed. But now, as the smoke of the 
conflict cleared away, they saw what had been done : — 
royalty had disappeared — a republic become inevitable, 
while Cromwell, as chief of the army, was the actual 
ruler of England. 

Immediate action was, therefore, necessary ; and, on 
the very day the king's execution took place, the com- 
mons resumed their sittings, and voted that the post 



262 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

should be delayed till the next day morning, and 
the trumpets, in the meantime, be sounded through 
London, declaring those traitors who should proclaim 
Charles II., or any other person, king of England. The 
House of Lords also met, and sent a message to the 
commons, proposing to consult with them upon a plan 
of government. They however, paid no attention to 
the message or the messengers; and allowed the lat- 
ter to stand unheeded, at the door, until wearied out, 
they returned to the lords. Message after message 
was sent, until, at length, about a week after (on 
the 6th of February), the peers of England succeeded 
in attracting the notice of their haughty rivals. It was 
moved and carried, "That the House of Peers was 
useless, dangerous, and ought to be abolished ; and that 
an act be brought in for that purpose." The lords 
received this decision while in session ; and after hav- 
ing heard prayers, and disposed of a rectory, adjourned 
to next morning : but, they never met again, till 
Charles II. ascended the throne. 

The next day, " kingship " was abolished, by a de- 
liberate vote; and immediately afterwards, in accord- 
ance with the motion of Marten, the king's statues, at 
the Royal Exchange, and other places, were torn down ; 
and the day following, an inscription placed on their 
pedestals — "Exit tyrannus regum ultimus" — "The ty- 
rant, the last of the kings, is gone ;" and beneath it, 
"Anno libertatis Anglicce restitutce primo. Anno 
Domini, 1648-9. 

The government of England was then settled on the 



1G49.] THE COMMONWEALTH. 203 

basis of a republic, and the decree sent abroad over 
Europe. Marten next introduced a bill for the sale of 
the royal property — lands, houses, regalia, furniture, 
jewels, paintings, &c. France, Spain, Sweden, and the 
Spanish Netherlands, purchased most of them. On the 
9th, the courts of law were arranged, the great seal 
broken, and the new one substituted. The next step 
was still more important, viz., the formation of an exe- 
cutive-council, to take the place of the king. It was 
composed of forty members, who were to hold their 
places for a year. Among them, we find the names of 
Pradshaw, Fairfax, Cromwell, Marten, Ludlow, White- 
locke, and others, who had been leaders in the last great 
movements. Bradshaw was made president ; and John 
Milton, his kinsman, chosen secretary for foreign lan- 
guages. The poet and the scholar, thus became a part 
of the republic of England. 

The first step was to settle the religious government. 
This was done by retaining the Presbyterian form, 
after depriving it of all temporal power. In a spirit of 
true charity, the episcopal clergy were allowed a por- 
tion of the tithes, and some toleration was shown to- 
wards the Papists. 

It was no slight task which these severe republicans 
had taken upon themselves. A commonwealth, torn by 
internal feuds, distracted by conflicting theories, and 
filled with discontented men, was not easily to be kept 
steady and firm by persons without the sanction of regal 
authority, or the reverence rendered to legitimate power. 

True, such men as Cromwell, Ire ton, Vane, and 



264 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Marten, commanded respect as well as fear; but the 
elements around them were too wild and stormy, to 
subside at a breath. Soon disturbances arose among 
the levellers and radicals, to whom a republican govern- 
ment was not liberty enough, and who wished a sort of 
community-system, or a return to a state of absolute 
freedom. Lilburn — restless, Jacobinical — living in a 
semi-frenzied state, and unable to keep his tongue or 
pen still, brought out pamphlets, called " England's 
New Chains Discovered," that is, its new government; 
and " The Hunting of the Foxes from Triploe Heath to 
Whitehall, by Five Small Beagles ,•" or the chasing of 
Cromwell, and his coadjutors, from their grand rendez- 
vous, previous to the first march of the army on Lon- 
don, to their assumption of the government by these 
insignificant levellers. He, however, soon found it was 
no fox he had to deal with, and that " England's chains" 
were, indeed, heavy. 

The great danger was from this radical party, which 
embraced all the strange sects which now made Eng- 
land like a foaming cauldron. They first denounced 
the king, and then, when the parliament, with whom 
they acted, usurped his place, denounced parliament, 
helping Cromwell to curb it; — and, now, when the 
latter attempted to wield the power they had put 
in his hands, they turned fiercely on him. Like the 
French Jacobins, there was no limit to the liberty, or, 
rather, no bounds to the license they demanded. 

At this time, too, there sprung up a literary war. 
The hurricane had passed, and men began to discuss 



1640.] LITERARY WAR. 205 

the events which had transpired. The royalists sent 
forth " Royal Sighs ;" and, weeping over the death 
of the king, called on all good men to weep with them. 
Milton, on the other hand, opened his batteries — " Ico- 
noclaste, the Breaker of Images/' followed by "Biting 
Sarcasms on Salmatius for His Defence of the Kins," 
exhibited both the spirit of the times and the almost 
fierce republicanism of the poet. 

In the meantime, however, the new government 
moved steadily forward. Duke Hamilton, who was so 
terribly beaten at Preston ; the gay Earl of Holland; the 
stout Lord Capel, the first who rose in parliament to 
complain of grievances, were condemned to death. 

Opposition being thus overawed, and the Common- 
wealth settling into permanent shape, public attention 
was naturally directed to distracted Ireland. Ever 
since the dreadful massacre of 1641, a perpetual war 
had been carried on between the Protestants and 
Catholics. This, Charles, while alive, had fostered by 
throwing the weight of his influence on the side of the 
Catholics. The parliament, between its struggle with 
the English cavaliers and the Scotch Presbyterians, had 
use for all its troops, and could not succor to any great 
extent the oppressed brethren of Ireland ; but now it 
was resolved to end the murderous war, and press to 
the lips of the Papists the cup of trembling they had so 
long made the Protestants drink to the dregs. Ormond, 
who still acted as the king's lieutenant-general there, 
had proclaimed Charles II. king, and the prince was 
about to start for Dublin 
12 



260 OLIVER CROJ1 W ELL. 

An army was, therefore, immediately voted for Ire- 
land ; and when the commander-in-chief came to be 
selected, all eyes were turned on Cromwell, and he jvas 
unanimously chosen. He professed some surprise at 
his nomination ; and addressing the House of Commons 
spoke of his great unworthiness and inabilit} io under- 
take such a charge. Whitelocke says, he delayed his 
answer two weeks, and requested that two officers 
might be selected from each corps to meet him at 
Whitehall in prayer. He finally consented to accept 
the appointment, though the motive which prompted 
him to do so, he said, was the "great difficulty which 
appeared in the expedition." Those who charge Crom- 
well with ambition and hypocrisy, would do well to 
explain the motives which induced him to take com- 
mand of this war. The government in which he was 
the chief man had just become settled, and he had but 
to remain and manage his part well to secure the entire 
power. Military renown could not have influenced 
him, for he had nothing to gain, but everything to lose, 
in this war with a semi -barbarous people. He had 
reached the highest eminence as a military leader; and 
the subjugation of the insurgents, who would never 
meet him in fair field-fight, could not add to his fame, 
w 7 hile defeat would peril all he had gained, and hurl him 
at once from the elevation he occupied. Nothing, that 
we can see, but the good of his country, and the welfare 
of Protestantism, urged him to this undertaking. 

No sooner was his re solution taken than he began to 
make his preparations with that energy and wisdom 



1649.' MUTINY . N THE ARMY. 20? 

which distinguished all his acts. He demanded at 
once, 12,000 horse and foot, £100,000 ready money, an 
ample supply of provisions and ammunition, and that 
Ireton should accompany him as second in command. 
His title was to be Lord Lieutenant-General and 
General Governor of Ireland. 

On the 20th of April, the council of the whole army 
met to decide by lot what regiments should constitute 
this army of twelve thousand, destined for so hazardous 
a service. After spending some time in prayer, tickets 
were placed in a hat, and drawn out by a child. The 
officers of the twenty-eight regiments on whom the lot 
fell, rejoiced that they were once more to follow their 
great leader to the field of battle ; but many of the 
soldiers murmured. Besides, the radicalism of Lilburn 
and his friends had pervaded a portion of the army, 
and a week after the meeting of the council of officers, 
a mutiny broke out in a troop of Whalley's regiment 
quartered at Bishopgate. Cromwell and Fairfax imme- 
diately hastened thither, and arrested fifteen of the 
ring-leaders, five of whom were condemned, and one 
shot. 

A week from this time, on the 1st of May, Richard 
Cromwell was finally married. The negotiations 
spoken of before, were so protracted and delayed, that 
the parties never reached a settlement until this late 
period. 

On Wednesday, the 9th, Cromwell reviewed his 
troops in Hyde Park, and saw signs of discontent, 
which he strove to allay by argument and reason. 



2(>8 OLIVER CROMWELL 

Three days after, Lilburn and his friends were locked 
up in the Tower. Immediately the flames of rebellion 
burst forth in several shires, and at head-quarters. 
First, in Oxfordshire, a party of two hundred took the 
field, demanding more perfect freedom, and the libera- 
tion of Lilburn and his friends — then one of a thousand 
at Salisbury. Cromwell's far-reaching mind had antici- 
pated this, and he had, therefore, caused the ringleaders 
to be shut up in the Tower, so that they could not 
harangue the men as they did in the first mutiny 
Immediately on the reception of this news, he and 
Fairfax started off. They travelled all Sunday ; and the 
nutineers hearing of their approach, fled northward. 
But these resolute generals followed swiftly after — riding 
on Monday, near fifty miles. The fugitives, by swim- 
ming a river, at length reached Burford, where, deeming 
themselves secure, they turned out their horses to feed, 
and laid down to rest. But at midnight, Oliver, with 
his fierce riders, burst into the town, and seized nearly 
the whole of them. A court-martial was called on the 
spot, and several were tried and condemned. Cornet 
Thompson, brother to Capt. Thompson the ringleader, 
was first shot, repenting, but too late, his crime. Two 
corporals followed, defying their foes to the last. The 
fourth, Cornet Dean, asked pardon and was spared, and 
the execution was stayed. Cromwell then addressed the 
remaining mutineers on the turpitude of their conduct. 
They confessed their guilt with tears, and soon after 
joined their regiments, and marched cheerfully for Ire- 
land. Captain Thompson himself w T as, in a few days 



1649.] DEPARTS FOR IRELAND. 269 

hunted down, and shot while refusing to yield ; and the 
insurrection brought to an end. Like a thunderbolt, 
"shattering that it may reach, and shattering what it 
reaches," Oliver smote this incipient rebellion to the 
heart, and gave the frenzied radicals to understand what 
kind of a master they had elected over themselves. 
Returning through Oxford, he and Fairfax were there 
received with great eclat. Dinners were given by the 
magistrates and people, while the college conferred 
honors on them and their officers. The commons 
passed a vote of thanks, and a day of general thanks- 
giving was appointed. 

Having thus summarily settled affairs in the army, 
Cromwell prepared to leave for Ireland. The 10th of 
July was appointed for his departure, and hence, that 
day was set apart for fasting and prayer, by the officers. 
He and his friends assembled at Whitehall, where 
three ministers solemnly invoked the blessing of God on 
his banner. After they had finished, Cromwell, Goff, 
and Harrison, in their turn, expounded the Scriptures, 
and preached as well as if the hands of the p.esbytery 
had been laid upon them. Not an oath was heard 
among the officers — prayer, and the singing of psalms, 
occupied the day ; for they were going forth, like the 
army of Israel, to smite, under God, the enemies of His 
Church. 

This strange preparation for a campaign being ended, 
Cromwell, about five o'clock in the evening, in the 
pomp that became a lord-general, and the Common- 
wealth of England, took his departure. In a splendid 



270 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

coach, drawn by six light grey steeds — beautiful Flan- 
ders' mares — surrounded by his life-guard of eighty 
young men, all commanders or esquires, in rich uniform, 
and followed bv a crowd of coaches, he started for 
Windsor, on his way to Bristol. Never was a nobler 
jfe-guard seen, than this band of youth, who, cased in 
shining armor, and mounted on noble steeds, galloped 
after the carriage of Oliver. His colors were white ; 
and, as they shook in the breeze, a hundred trumpets 
gave forth their loudest blast, till the city reeled under 
the joyful din. As the splendid cortege swept on 
through the streets of London, long and deafening 
shouts rolled heavenward, drowning even the clangor 
of the trumpets. " Now have at you, my Lord Ormond, 
you will have men of gallantry to encounter, who, to 
overcome, will be honor sufficient, and to be beaten by 
them will be no great blemish to their reputation — if 
you say, " Caesar or nothing," they say, " a republic or 
nothing."* 

On the fourth day after his departure, he arrived at 
Bristol, where he was received with great pomp and 
ceremony. While here, notwithstanding the pressure 
of business, he found time to write an affectionate let- 
ter to the father of Richard's wife, with whom the 
young couple were then staying. In it, he speaks in 
the kindest terms, of his new daughter-in-law, saying, 
that he expects she will write him often ; and asks 
the father to counsel his son, saying, " / wish he may be 

* Vide Whitelocke and the Mod. Int., a newspaper of the day; as 
quoted in the " British Statesmen 



1649.] LETT ESS TO HIS CHILDREN. 271 

serious — tin times require it." Richard, and his mother 
joined him afterwards, and remained till near the 
time of his departure. While he lay at Milford Haven, 
on board the ship John, he wrote, also, to his daughter 
Dorothy, in the same simple, affectionate strain which 
characterized all his letters to his children. Thus did 
this strange man, terrible as death, and unrelenting as 
doom, in the presence of the enemy, unbend to those 
he loved, and pour forth all those tender feelings which 
made him so kind a parent. These striking contrasts 
" remind us" (as Macauly says of Milton's poetry) " of 
the miracles of Alpine scenery. Nooks and dells, beau- 
tiful as fairy land, are embosomed in its most rugged 
elevations. The roses and the myrtle bloom unchilled 
on the verge of the avalanche." 

While waiting for a fair wind, Cromwell received 
good news from Dublin. Ormond, in the course of 
the past year, had driven Monk out of Ireland, and 
subdued nearly three-fourths of the entire island. 
Derry, in the North, and Dublin the capital, still held 
out; though he besieged the latter place with 19,000 
men, while 10,000 more were marching to re-inforce 
him. General Jones, parliamentary major-general, 
occupied the city, at this time, with only a little over 
5,000 troops. But many of these being re-inforcements 
lately sent by Cromwell, he ventured to make a bold 
sally ; and falling on this overwhelming force, rolled it 
back in disorder, and drove it, broken and shattered 
\o pieces, in wild flight befo-e him. Two thousand 



272 OLIVER CROMWELL 

five hundred prisoners, and four thousand slain, were 
the fruits of this astonishing victory. 

This was a good omen to Cromwell ; and when he 
arrived in Dublin (the 15th of August), he was wel- 
comed with salvos of cannon, and loud acclamations, 
from the assembled thousands. The people blocked his 
carriage ; and, pausing in their midst, he addressed them 
kindly, promising — Providence assisting him — to deliver 
them from oppression. The crowd answered with 
shouts, saying, " We will live and die with you." 

He remained here two weeks, to allow his men to 
recruit, and to arrange the plan of the campaign. 

It is impossible to give any adequate idea of the con- 
dition of Ireland, at this period, or, of the feeling that 
prevailed in England towards the Irish Papists. This 
unfortunate island, which seems to have been reserved 
as the chosen stage on which every form and degree of 
human suffering might be exhibited; had been, for 
years, a prey to the most bitter feuds, between the 
Catholics and Protestants. But, at this time, the Catho- 
lics and royalist Presbyterians had all united, under 
Ormond, to put Charles II. on the throne. Never, be- 
fore, had the opposition been so powerful, nor the 
territory to be reclaimed by the parliament, so exten- 
sive. 

That one may see with what kind of spirit Oliver 
and his enthusiastic Puritans entered on this contest, 
and obtain, also, some insight into the reasons why 
they smote with such terrible vengeance, we will quote 
a passage, as given by d'Aubigne, from Sir J. Temple's 



1649.] MASSACRE OF PROTESTANTB. 21 S 

Irish Rebellion: "The Catholics burnt the houses of 
the Protestants, turned them out naked in the midst ot 
winter, and drove them like herds of swine before 
them. If ashamed of their nudity, and desirous of 
seeking shelter from the rigor of a remarkably severe 
season, these unhappy wretches took refuge in a barn, 
and concealed themselves under the straw, the rebels 
instantly set fire to it, and burned them alive. At other 
times, they were bound, without clothing, to be drowned 
in rivers ; and if, on the road, they did not move quick 
enough, they were urged forward at the point of the 
pike. When they reached the river, or the sea, they 
were precipitated into it in bands of several hundreds , 
which is, doubtless, an exaggeration, if these poor 
wretches rose to the surface of the water, men were 
stationed along the brink, to plunge them in again with 
the butts of their muskets, or to fire at, and kill them. 
Husbands were cut to pieces in presence of their wives ; 
wives and virgins were abused in the sight of their 
nearest relations ; and infants of seven or eight years 
were hung before the eyes of their parents. Nay, the 
Irish even went so far, as to teach their own children 
to strip and kill the children of the English, and dash 
out their brains against the stones. Numbers of Pro- 
testants were buried alive — as many as seventy in one 
trench. An Irish priest, named MacOdeghan, captured 
forty or fifty Protestants, and persuaded them to abjure 
their religion, on a promise of quarter. After their 
abjuration, he asked them if they believed that Jesus 
Christ was bodily present in the host, and that the pope 
12* 



274 OLIVER C R MWELL, 

was the head of the church ? And, on their replying 
in the affirmative, he said, " ' Now, then, you are in a 
very good faith ;' and, for fear they should relapse into 
heresy, cut all their throats." If there be no exag- 
geration in this account, the effect of gathering into 
one mass the evils and the violence scattered over so 
many years, has the same effect as if there were. Still, 
after making all due allowance, what a frightful picture 
does this present of the state of Ireland; and with 
what a fierce spirit of retaliation, must such acts of 
cruelty have filled the enthusiastic Puritans, already too 
intolerant! With this statement before him, one may 
imagine why Cromwell entered so ferociously on his 
work. 



STORMING OF DROGHEDA. 

Everything being ready, Cromwell put a portion nf 
his army, some 4,000 men, in motion towards Drogheda ; 
into which Ormond had thrown three thousand of his 
choicest troops. Behind thick walls, defended by strong 
entrenchments and abundance of heavy artillery, the 
latter thought he could keep at bay any force that 
might be sent against him. 

Oliver appeared before the place on the 3d of Sep- 
tember, and immediately began to land his heavy siege 
guns and erect his batteries. In six days, everything 
being completed, he hoisted the red flag, and opened his 
fire. All that day he rained his shot upon the walls 
and towers with but little effect The next morning 



1649.] STORM OF DROGHEDA. 275 

the fire was commenced with renewed vigor from two 
batteries, which were planted within point-blank range 
of the east and south walls. All day long it was a 
continued peal of thunder around the town ; and before 
night the thick mason- work began to crumble, and huge 
gaps to appear, through which resolute men might 
storm. The besieged, \v vever, did not witness the 
gradual progress made by the enemy without putting 
forth every effort to render it useless. Where the walls 
began to give way strong intrenchments were thrown 
up, from behind which a terrible flank fire could be 
thrown on the columns that might clear the breaches. 
But Cromwell no sooner saw " two reasonable good 
breaches" made, than he formed the storming parties ; 
and at five o'clock the trumpets sounded the assault, 
and a thousand desperate men sprung forward. In an 
instant every gun that could be brought to bear upon 
them opened its fire, and it rained a horrible tempest on 
the head of the column. But pressing in the track of 
their daring leaders, they pushed furiously on — shouting, 
through the murderous fire — and gallantly mounted the 
breach and entered it. But met by the strong intrench- 
ments, and swept by the steady fire of the enemy 
behind them and from within a church that flanked 
the entrance ; they hesitated, wavered, and finally stag- 
gered backward through the breach, leaving it filled 
with the dead. Undismayed, Cromwell formed a 
second column of attack, and kindling their enthusiasm 
by his fiery words, again sent them forward. Gallantly 
advancing they poured 'hrough the Tent walls, and 



276 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

charged desperately on those bloody intrenchments, Lu1 
in vain : — shattered, and broken, and scourged intc 
madness by the tremendous volleys, they also, recoiled. 
All the lion in Cromwell was now roused as he saw his 
favorite troops the second time borne back, disheartened 
and disorderly, from the walls. What! be beaten at 
the outset, and not only suffer a shameful defeat, but 
give the enemy the great moral power which a victory 
then obtained always confers ? No ; he who had thus 
far gained every battle he fought, was not to let the tide 
of his fortunes turn here, especially when the hosts of 
the Lord were marshalled against those of Belial. 
Forgetting the lord-general in the fiery captain, he 
rallied his men the third time, and with his countenance 
lighted up with that fearful expression it always wore 
in battle, he placed himself at their head, and pointing for- 
ward with his sword, summoned them to follow. Nothing 
could exceed the enthusiasm of the soldiers when they 
found Cromwell at their head : shoulder to shoulder, they 
crowded joyfully to the breach, and rushing through it 
in one wild torrent, swept those strong intrench- 
ments, like the breath of the destroying angel. Making 
good their position there and in the church, so as to 
command the entrance the cavalry was ordered up. 
The trumpets sounded, and over the broken wall and 
over the dead bodies the fearless Ironsides plunged for- 
ward, and forming in the streets drove everything before 
them. A portion of the garrison retreated into the 
Mill-Mount, a fortification perched on a high hill and 
thoroughly defended by strong works and heavy pali- 



1*649. ] THE MASSACRE. 277 

sades. But nothing could now stay the excited troops, 
and beating down the palisades — climbing over the 
walls — they made their way into the centre of the fort, 
hewing down all who obstructed their passage. Then 
commenced one of the most terrible scenes of war. 
Roused by the resistance he had met with, Cromwell 
ordered his troops to give no quarter to those who were 
found with arms in their hands. All that night the 
work of death went on. Nothing was heard but the 
volleys of musketry — the fierce gallop of horsemen — the 
clash of weapons, and shouts and shrieks of men. The 
prayer for mercy was of no avail ; and like reapers in some 
harvest field, the Puritan host swept through the streets 
of Drogheda, slaying on the right hand and on the 
left. Before the morning sun rose on the smoking 
town, two thousand had passed from the scene of 
slaughter to another world. Heaps of corpses blocked 
the way, and the blood flowed in rills through the 
streets. Nor did this end the work of destruction 
About a hundred of the garrison fled into another part 
of the town, and took refuge in the steeple of St. 
Peter's Church. Cromwell summoned them to sur- 
render, and they refusing, he ordered the steeple to be 
fired, and in a short time the lofty spire was wrapped 
in flames. The shrieks and cries of the burning multi- 
tude within were enough to move the hardest heart, but 
no mercy was extended. The wretched inmates expired 
in the most excruciating agony ; and at length the 
steeple of the church crumbled above then, burying 
them in one common ruin. 



278 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Thus enaea tne second day's slaughter. The third 
morning, two other strong towers, into which the re- 
maining fugitives had fled, were summoned to yield 
but a refusal being sent, and shots fired on the 
soldiery, they were closely invested. Over a hundred 
in one tower finally surrendered, when every officer 
was knocked on the head, and every tenth soldier slain. 
The rest, together with those of the other tower, to 
whom mercy was shown, were shipped to the Barbadoes 
as slaves ; — only thirty escaped this dreadful massacre ; 
and but one officer lived to tell the tale to the Irish 
army : — even the friars fell before the fury of the soldiers. 

We have sketched only the outlines of this revolting 
scene, which lasted several days ; for the horrid details 
would freeze the blood ; but thus much we felt bound to 
say, so as not to cover up, in any way, so great an 
enormity. Cromwell himself attempts no disguise, and 
in writing to the government an account of it, he says, 
after speaking of carrying the intrenchments : " Being 
thus entered, we refused them quarter, having the day 
before summoned the town. I believe we put to the sword 
the whole number of the defendants. I do not think 
thirty of the whole number escaped with their lives. 
Those that did are in safe custody for the Barbadoes." 
He concludes this singular declaration with " 1 wish that 
all honest men may give the glory of this to God alone, to 
whom, indeed, the praise of this mercy belongs." What 
a shocking expression this is to wind up a massacre 
with. The Lord, we opine, did not thank him for the 
compliment ; and would much rather prefer " the un 



1649.] HIS VICTORIOUS MARCH. 279 

worthy instrument" should take all " the glory" to 
himself. His chaplain, Hugh Peters, took the same 
view of it, ana went to the chief church, where he 
solemnly offered up thanks to God for the slaughter of 
his enemies. Parliament also decreed that a day of 
thanksgiving should be kept in honor of this great 
mercy. 

The fate of Drogheda struck the Irish people with 
dread. The day of vengeance had arrived and the 
atrocities they had practiced on the helpless Protestants 
were now to be visited upon their own heads. Cromwell 
— resolved to bring the Irish war to a speedy termina- 
tion, followed up this victory by those rapid movements 
which distinguished his last campaign in England. 
The neighboring towns of Dundalk and Trim surren- 
dered without the least resistance ; — the garrison of the 
latter, in their hasty flight, leaving all their artillery 
behind them. 

He then returned to Dublin, but after resting there a 
few days, started southward. About fourteen miles 
from the city, he came upon a garrison stationed in Car- 
rick, or Killencarrick, who fled at his approach. Leav- 
ing a company to defend the place, he pressed forward, 
and marching through a desolate country, came to the 
river Doro and the strongly-fortified castle of Arcklow. 
the ancient seat of the family of Ormond. Struck with 
terror, the garrison fled without attempting a defence, 
and Cromwell pursued his triumphant march. At Lim- 
erick, on his way to Wexford, he found another strong 
castle aid garrison but the soldiers having fired the 



280 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

town, fled. The castle of Ferns fell next, without 
a blow ; and after it, Enniscarthy, where there were a 
strong castle and the largest monastery of Franciscan 
friars in all Ireland. Leaving small garrisons to hold 
these places, he kept on, until, on the 3d of October, the 
walls of the rich and strong town of Wexford arose 
before him. 



STORMING OF WEXFORD. 

On the other side of the river lay Ormond, with over 
three thousand troops ; but they marched away, leav- 
ing it to the tender mercies of the Puritan army. Oli- 
ver immediately sent a summons to the governor to sur- 
render. The latter, in reply, asked till the next day at 
twelve o'clock, to confer with the major and the officers, 
proposing, in the meantime, a cessation of arms. Crom- 
well replied, that he would expect his answer the next 
day at twelve o'clock ; but, in the meantime, should 
keep busy. His answer was laconic enough ; and, his 
reasons for carrying on hostilities during the conference, 
were best known to himself. He says, "Because our 
tents are not so good covering as your houses, and for 
other reasons, I cannot agree to a cessation." Acting 
on this declaration, he sent General Jones, with a body 
of horse and foot, to take a fort at the mouth of the har- 
bor ; which was speedily done, by the dragoons alone — ■ 
the governor fleeing in a boat to a frigate lying within 
cannon shot of the shore. Some seamen of the par- 
liamentary fleet, having entered the fort soon after the 



1649.] STORM OF WEXTORD 28 _ 

dragoons took possession of it, turned seven cannon 
which had been left behind, on the frigate, in such s 
well-directed fire, that she soon struck her colors 
Another vessel, not knowing what had happened, com 
ing to her help, was also captured. 

In the meantime, a reinforcement of five hundred 
infantry having been thrown into the town, the gov- 
ernor concluded not to send any reply to Cromwell; 
whereupon the latter planted his batteries against the 
castle standing outside the walls, on the north-east side 
of the place, and began to play upon it with " the whole 
strength of his artillery." After a hundred shot had 
been thrown, " the governor's stomach came down ;" 
and, notwithstanding there was a rampart of earth 
within the walls, fifteen feet thick, on which cannon- 
balls could have no effect, and nearly a hundred guns 
lined the works, he offered to surrender. But the terms 
did not at all suit Cromwell, who called them " abom- 
inable;" and prepared to carry the place by storm. 
The castle, however — fair terms being given it — sur- 
rendered, without farther resistance ; and the soldiers, 
rushing into it with shouts, hoisted their flag on the 
summit. The troops who manned the walls of the 
town, no sooner heard the loud huzzas of the repub- 
lican soldiers, and saw them crowding the top of the 
castle, than they fled within the ramparts. Taking ad- 
vantage of this sudden panic, the officers hastily formed 
storming parties, who, with ladders in their hands, 
rushed furiously on the walls, and climbing over them, 
poured into the streets. When they reached the mar- 



282 OLIVER CEO M VV ELL. 

kei-place, th^y found the enemy drawn up in firm order 
who received them with a volley, and, for awhile, stoutly 
held their ground. But nothing could resist the infu- 
riated soldiery — rushing resolutely on the levelled pikes, 
they broke the ranks in pieces, and then began the 
work of slaughter. Three hundred succeeded in reach- 
ing two boats, into which they leaped, and pushed from 
shore; but, the boats being overladen, sank with all 
on board. The scenes of Drogheda were here enacted 
over again; and men, women, and children, fell in 
indiscriminate slaughter. Two thousand corpses lay 
piled in the streets and market-place. 

Wexford was a wealthy and prosperous place; and 
hence furnished a rich booty to the soldiers. Among 
the spoils which fell into the hands of the republicans 
were three ships of war — two of twenty, and one of 
thirty guns — besides several trading vessels. The con- 
duct of the soldiers in this storm, was ferocious and 
cruel in the extreme, but, a single paragraph in Crom- 
well's despatch goes far to palliate, if not excuse, it ; 
and shows in what a spirit of vengeance, they fell on 
the inhabitants. In speaking of two cases of cruelty 
which had formerly occurred there, he says, "About 
seven or eight score of poor Protestants, were, by them, 
(the papists,) put into an old vessel ; which being, as some 
say, bulged by them, the vessel sunk, and they were all 
presently drowned in the harb< r." " The other in- 
stance was thus — they put divert poor Protestants into 
a chapel, where they were famished to death." "It is 
on this account," he declares, " that God by an unex 



1049.] TAKES ROSS. 283 

pected Providence in His righteous justice, brought a 
just judgment upon them." 

Leaving Wexford under the command of Colonel 
Cooke he marched against Ross on the 17th of 
October, situated on the river Barrow, and garrisoned 
by a thousand men. He sat down before it with only 
three cannon, and summoned it to surrender. In the 
meanwhile, as was his invariable custom, he began to 
plant his batteries, and make preparation for a storm. 
Ormond was on the other side of the river, and sent 
over a re-inforcement of fifteen hundred men. 

But, it made no difference to Cromwell, whether it 
was fifteen hundred, or five thousand; he had deter- 
mined Ross should fall; and, on the 14th, opened his 
battery. This brought a reply from the governor, who 
offered to capitulate, provided the lord-general would 
grant him favorable terms. The latter replied, that he 
might march away with his troops, with drums beating 
and colors flying; — and that the property and lives of 
the inhabitants should be protected. This was written 
amid the roar of cannon, which, notwithstanding the 
request of the governor, that hostilities should cease 
while negotiations were pending, kept thundering on 
the walls. Oliver had no time to spare ; and would 
admit of no cessation of arms. "Surrender!" was 
his constant demand, enforcing it, in the meantime, 
with his artillery. 

Thus, while the governor was pondering on the con- 
Aitions offered him. a fearful breach had beer opened 



£84 OLIVER CROMWELL 

m the walls; and a storming party was already in 
column, waiting for the signal to rush to the assault. 

The governor, seeing how matters stood, sent word 
that he would surrender the place, on the terms pro- 
posed, provided he was allowed to take with him 
the artillery and ammunition; and ihe inhabitants who 
chose to leave were permitted to carry away themselves 
and goods; "and those w r ho stayed, have liberty of 
conscience." Cromwell replied, that he could take 
with him whatever he brought there — nothing more ; 
and the people who chose to go, might carry away 
their goods, and have time to do it in. " But" he 
added, "as for that which you mention concerning 
liberty of conscience, I meddle not with any man's 
conscience. But, if by liberty of conscience you mean 
a liberty to exercise the mass, I judge it best to use 
plain dealing, and to let you know, where the parlia- 
ment of England have power, that will not be allowed 
of." Plain dealing enough, and language clearly un 
derstood. " You may believe what you choose ; I do 
not trouble myself about other men's consciences ; 
but where my banner waves, no mass shall be said. 
Sooner than permit it, I will storm your strongholds, 
and crowd your streets with the dead." Strong Protes- 
tantism this, and not likely to be moved much by argu- 
ment. 

He sent the whole account to parliament, that they 
might " see how God pulled down strong stomachs." 
One cannot but be struck with the strange contrast 



1649.] HIS DESPATCHES. 281) 

between Cromwell's correspondence with the governors 
of Irish towns, and with parliament. To the latter, 
his letters are more like religious epistles than military- 
despatches ; w T hile, to the former, he <;ays nothing of 
"providence," makes no exhortations, but wiites with the 
abruptness and sternness of Caesar. There are no mystic 
allusions — no prolix sentences. He expresses himself 
in the fewest words possible, and with a sternness that 
startles the reader. 

Five or six hundred of the garrison being English- 
men, they joined his standard — an example afterwards 
followed by other places; so that he constantly re- 
cruited his army from the enemy. Cork and Youghall 
soon surrendered to his officers ; and the reduction of 
Ireland went bravely on. General Blake, now Admi- 
ral Blake, was co-operating with the land forces, and 
had already taken several prizes. 

Cromwell's despatch gives a full account of his vari- 
ous successes, which he ascribes entirely to Providence. 
*It pleased God" to raise an adverse wind, which ter- 
minated in good. " It pleased God," that they had, on 
another occasion, two demi-cannon, with which they 
raked a man-of-war, and two prizes, so that they were 
compelled to surrender. "It pleased God to give the 
men courage" — indeed, Providence wrought every- 
thing. " It was the Lord only ;" so that " the instru- 
ments were very inconsiderable throughout." It, how- 
ever seemed to occur to him, that parliament might 
take him too literally, and leave Providence, who had 
done so much, to do the rest, and send him no recruits ; 



286 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

and, remembering, too, as the French general did, that 
Providence was very apt to favor the strong battalions, 
he added, by way of caution, " Give me leave, in con- 
clusion, humbly to offer what, in my judgment, I con- 
ceive to be for your service. We desire recruits. It 
is not good to follow providences" — that is, you must not 
have so much faith, as to forget the " strong battalions " 
" Faith, without works, is dead," was his motto ; and 
while he ascribed his success to God, he made use of 
all the means in his power. 

At the close of this terrible campaign, pestilence, 
following in the track of famine and war, swept over 
the country and entered the army ; so that, as Cromwell 
said, the soldiers became " more fitted for the hospital 
than the open field." The gallant Jones and Horton 
both fell victims to it, and scarcely " one officer of forty" 
escaped. He himself was cast on a sick bed in Ross, 
but soon was on his feet again. This single man, 
on whose life such great destinies hung, exposed him- 
self like the meanest soldier in the deadly breach, and 
walked amid the same pestilence which cut down thou- 
sands by his side, unslain. A stray bullet, an adven- 
turous pike, and the Commonwealth of England would 
have been an air bubble which the first touch breaks. 

From Ross he marched on Waterford, which, after 
investing some time, he abandoned, and went into 
winter quarters. Various measures of his under offi- 
cers marked the close of his operations ; — for himself, as 
soon as his troops were comfortably settled, he made the 
tour of his garrisons, and prepared for an early opening 



1650.J THE SPRING CAMPAIGN. 28") 

of the spring campaign. He also attended to civil 
matters — a court of justice was established in Dublin 
and Munster, over which Ireton was placed by parlia- 
ment as grand judge. 

His despatches, dated Cork, Dec. 19th, giving an 
account of his last measures and his settlement in 
winter quarters, reached parliament on the 8th of 
January, and were no sooner read than a vote was 
passed recalling him to England. Charles II. had 
formed a coalition with the Scotch — or rather, being less 
scrupulous than his father, had yielded all to their de- 
mands, on condition they should place him on the 
throne. A second invasion was threatened, and it 
behooved parliament to have Cromwell at home. 

In the meantime, the lord-general did not wait for 
spring to open before he commenced operations. No 
sooner were his men recruited, and re-inforcements 
from England received, than he took the field ; and, 
though the weather was cold, on the 24th of January 
put his troops in motion. It is not our intention 
to go into all the details of this sickening war — enough 
has been already given to show in what manner it was 
carried on, and illustrate the chief actors in it. 

The plan of the campaign soon developed itself — 
Col. Reynolds, at the head of a large body of horse 
and dragoons and two thousand foot, marched into Kil- 
kenny followed by Ireton with a strong reserve, while 
Cromwell took his way towards the counties of Limer- 
ick and Tipperary, determined to penetrate into the very 
heart of the enemy's country Two days after he left 



2SS OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Yougnal, he took the castle of Kilkenny, on the borders 
of Limerick, and, soon after, Clogheen. Raghill Castle 
and old Castletown also surrendered, when he moved 
toward Fethard, beyond the Suir. After a terrible 
march, rendered worse by a storm of wind and rain, he 
arrived, at night, before this strongly walled place 
His troops, drenched to their skins, cold and hungry, 
could find no place of shelter, except an old abbey, 
into which they crawled to escape the tempestuous 
weather. 

The main army was not yet up, and this was merely 
an advance-guard of a few hundred, with which he 
had marched so boldly into the midst, of the enemy. 
But neither the smallness of his force, nor the stormy 
night, nor the state of his troops, could induce him to 
delay a moment before it ; and soon his trumpet was 
heard amid the pauses of the storm, summoning the 
town to surrender. The garrison shot at the trumpeter, 
and for an hour refused to answer the call, saying, that 
" it was not a time of night to send a summons." But 
Cromwell would listen to no excuse, and the indignant 
governor was compelled to sit up all night and settle the 
treaty, by w^hich, next morning, the place was given up. 

He then started for Callan, where he met Col. Rey- 
nolds, who had also been successful. The colonel was 
sent with his regiment to sieze Knocktofer ; while 
Cromwell, with the remaining forces, returned to 
Fethard and Cashel. Cahir Castle, perched like an 
eagle upon a rock, and which formerly cost the Earl of 
Essex a siege of eight weeks to subdue, yielded at once 



1050.] ALWAYS VICTORIOUS. 289 

The Castle of Kiltinon, of Golden Bridge, of Dundrum, 
fell in rapid succession, and garrisons were so distrib- 
uted over the country, that the enemy could not obtain 
subsistence, and fell, detachment after detachment, into 
the hands of the republicans. 

In Limerick, Col. Henry Cromwell and Lord Broghil* 
drove the enemy out of the country into Kilkenny. 
Cromwell, hearing of it, marched thither, with his 
accustomed rapidity, and prostrating everything in his 
passage, formed a junction with Col. Hewson, who had 
arrived from Dublin. He then proceeded to invest a 
strong castle near Gowran, commanded by Col. Ham- 
mond, " who was a principal actor in the Kentish insur- 
rection, and did manage Lord Capel's business at his 
trial" (to little purpose it seemed), and ordered him to 
surrender. The valiant colonel sent a haughty refusal, 
upon which Cromwell planted his artillery and began to 
play upon him. The clatter of balls about his ears, and 
the crumbling of walls, brought the colonel to his 
senses, and he beat a parley, offering to treat. But 
the former, having once offered him fairly, refused — 
saying, that he would promise nothing but the safety 
of the soldiers — the surrender of the officers must be 
unconditional. Hammond accepted the terms, and the 
soldiers were saved : but he and all his officers, except 

* It is said that Broghil, formerly an enemy of Cromwell, being 
detected in a conspiracy, was compelled to choose between the 
scaffold and the army of the Commonwealth. But it is doubtful 
w r hether Cromwell would have entrusted such an important command 
to a friend thus ohtained He was, however, a faithful and efficient 
officer. 

13 



290 o l r V E R CROMWELL. 

one, were inhumanly shot, and the Catholic chaplain 
hung outside the wails. 

He next marched to the " city of Kilkenny," where 
he arrived on the 22d of March. Two days after, his 
battery of " three guns began to play," and after a hun- 
dred shot, or so, made a breach, which their fiery leader 
thought " stormable" and rushed into it. But the gar- 
rison had cast up works, and palisaded them, which 
commanded the breach so completely that the assaulting 
column recoiled in confusion. But Col. Ew r er with a 
thousand men having made a lodgement in another por- 
tion of the city and a town on the farther side of the 
river being occupied by a detachment of republican 
troops, the place, after some severe fighting, surrendered. 

In the meantime, his subordinate officers, operating 
against smaller places in the neighborhood, were equally 
successful ; and "they continued to grow upon their ene- 
my, as the Lord blessed them." 

The letter of recall, sent the 8th of January, did 
not reach Oliver, it appears, till the 22d of March. 
Whether he managed so as to secure its detention till 
he could finish his work in Ireland, or not, it is impossi- 
ble to say, but it seems very strange that a government 
despatch should be two months and a half going from 
London to Ireland. 

STORM OF CLOMMEL. 

Hugh O'Neil commanded here with a strong garri- 
son under him; and undismayed by the vengeance which 



1650.] STORM OF CI.OMMEL. 291 

had fallen on other towns, made a gallant defence. 
Cromwell, as heretofore, immediately planted his batte- 
ries, and as soon as a breach was made, ordered the 
storm. But the enemy had erected double intrench- 
ments and cross works within, which were flanked in 
turn by houses ; so that after the breach was passed, the 
peril had but just commenced. The enthusiastic repub- 
licans crowded, however, into the ragged opening made 
by the cannon, and falling with a terrible shout on the 
net-work of defence;: within, attempted to carry them b] 
an overwhelming charge. But, met by a solid ridge oi 
steel points, and mowed down by the rapid volleys 
they could not advance Yet, disdaining to fly, the) 
sunk, rank after rank, in their footsteps, "each stepping 
where his comrade fell" — and thus for four mortal hours, 
stood breast to breast with their foes, receiving the 
flashes of the muskets in their very faces. Never before 
was a storm so resolutely pressed — nothing could re- 
sist it — and at length, as night drew on, the enemy 
gave way and fled, and a parley was sounded. The 
garrison had left the town, but the next morning Oliver 
pursued them and killed over two hundred men. 

This was the last of his battles in Ireland, and hand- 
ing over his command to Ireton, he returned to Dublin, 
where the ship President was waiting for him. Having 
hastily arranged some civil matters, and given his in- 
structions — he, in the latter part of May, stepped on 
board and set sail for England. 

We will not describe the manner in which Ireton. 
brave and relentless as his father-in-law, completed the 



292 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

subjugation of the country. The same system was car- 
ried out until Ireland lay completely prostrate, and was 
compelled to receive whatever her master chose tc 
bestow. 



REVIEW OF THE CAMPAIGN. 

Cromwell's campaign lasted but nine months in all, 
yet in that time, he had accomplished more than Eng- 
land had ever before been able to do in as many years. 
With a soul of fire and a will of iron, he moved with his 
cannon like some awful impersonation of wrath, from 
city to city and town to town. He admitted no delay — 
the moment the head of his column appeared before the 
walls, his trumpet was heard summoning the garrison to 
surrender. He did not even wait for an answer, but 
commenced planting his guns; and thundered on their 
fastnesses, even while negotiations were going on. No 
sooner did his shot open a breach, than he stormed 
through. One wild protracted wail swelling to heaven — 
streets cumbered with corpses and rippling with blood, 
and his work was done and his fierce columns again in 
motion. 

The rapidity of his marches, and the suddenness of his 
onsets, imparted still more terror to his movements, and 
the blast of his bugle before the walls of a town sound- 
ed, to the terrified inhabitants within, like the peal of the 
last trumpet. Lips grew pale and hearts stopped beat- 
ing, at the mention of his name. To us, he does not in 
this campaign seem to be Cromwell, but some wrathful 



1050.] DEFENCE OF IRISH CAMPAIGN. 293 

spirit from the other world, sent on a commission of ven- 
geance. Defying the pestilence that walked through his 
army at " noon-day'' — with gaunt famine in his rear — ■ 
mercy asleep in his breast, and slaughter written in ter- 
rific lines on his corrugated brow; he moves over the 
land, crushing cities, and castles, and walled towns under 
his feet, as if they were but the playthings of an hour. 

DEFENCE OF CROMWELL TN THIS CAMPAIGN. 

Much effort has been made by the friends of Crom- 
well, to palliate the atrocities of this war. But the ex- 
cuses offered, viz., that he had only a short time, in 
which to effect the subjugation of the country — that 
his army was rapidly wasting away by sickness — that 
it was the quickest method of ending hostilities, &c, 
are utterly worthless; and, if we supposed that they 
were the motives which governed him, we should have 
no faith in him as a Christian — nc love for him, as a 
man. Mr. Carlyle seems to think the plan an excellent 
one, inasmuch as it prevented the effusion of blood. 
Yes ; but supposing Cromwell had not always been vic- 
torious, and the Irish had retaliated on him the bloody 
warfare he adopted, what kind of a campaign would 
this have been? A succession of mutual massacres 
such as the world never beheld. This " doing evil that 
good may come," and making " the ends justify the 
means," is considered, in our times, rather doubtful 
morality. 

What right had Cromwell to make the Irish an ex 



294 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ception to his ordinary mjde of warfare? Why did he 
not impose the same conditions on the English and 
Scotch towns that he invested ? What if he had butch- 
ered the inhabitants of Bristol, because they put him 
to the trouble of storming it ? In what respect 

were they different from Drogheda and Wexford ? The 
simple truth is, his conduct of the Irish war was savage 
and ferocious — unworthy of a civilized man, much 
more of a Christian, and will rest a spot on his name 
to the end of time. In sacking cities, massacres w r ill 
sometimes occur, when a long and bloody resistance 
has so exasperated the soldiers, that all discipline is 
lost. Thus, during the peninsular war, in the time of 
Napoleon ; in the sacking of St. Sebastian by the Eng- 
lish, and the storming of Oporto by the French, the in- 
habitants were slaughtered ; but the officers took no part 
in it — nay, exposed their lives in endeavoring to arrest 
the violence. But here we have a Puritan commander, 
who prays before going to battle, sings psalms in the 
midst of the fight, and writes pastoral letters to parlia- 
ment, not permitting, but ordering, massacres to be 
committed. 

Mr. Carlyle not only refuses to condemn such an un- 
civilized mode of warfare, but stigmatizes those who 
have some objections to it, as " rose-water surgeons." 
But, to make light of those atrocities, which, to this 
day, are remembered as the "Curse of Cromwell," is car- 
rying "hero-worship" a little too far. Should we 
v lfold the horror and cruelty ; depict, in full, and 
accurately, the sufferings and cold-blooded massacres 



1 650. J DEFENCE OF IRISH CAMPAIGN. 295 

connected with this Irish war, the stern face of Olivei 
would ever after appear streaked with blood. 

We have thus spoken as condemnatory of his con- 
duct towards the Irish, as if he had butchered the 
inhabitants in brutal, ferocity or fiendish hate, because 
we wish not in any way to sanction the view which 
Carlyle takes. But though there can be no apology for 
such a mode of warfare, there may be for the man. 
The character is indicated more by the motive than by 
the act. Now, we do not see the least inconsistency in 
Cromwell's conduct from first to last. The very sim- 
plicity with which he gives his own account of the 
affair, shows that he imagines himself to be acting right. 
He makes no apology — offers no excuses' — throws in no 
palliation ; but tells the naked facts, as if it were 
impossible to doubt his sincerity. These barbarous 
cruelties, instead of furnishing any contradictions to 
his character, illustrate it. They prove our former 
statement, that he was acting under a kind of hal- 
lucination, and conceived himself a special agent of 
God, to destroy His foes and establish His Church. He 
fought battles precisely on the principles the Israelites 
did when they struggled to keep possession of the land 
of Canaan. The Old Testament was constantly in his 
mouth, and he killed men as coolly as Joshua. The 
Scotch and English being Protestants, he regarded 
them as Judah might Dan or Manasseh in a civil war ; 
w r hile the Irish Papists he considered as Amalakites or 
Moabites, who were to be destroyed as enemies of 
\he Lord. This is evident from the language he uses 



296 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

in his despatches to parliament. After stating what he 
has done in perfect candor and fairness, knowing that 
it will stand registered against him to the end of time, 
he says: "I am persuaded that this is a righteous 
judgment of God upon these barbarous wretches, who 
have imbrued their hands in so much innocent blood ; 
and that it will tend to prevent the effusion of blood for 
the future ; which are the satisfactory grounds to such 
actions, which otherwise cannot but work remorse ana, 
regret." Nor is it sirange that he should have enter- 
tained these erroneous views. When we remember 
that the Protestants solemnly believed themselves to be 
the true church and the Papists heathen ; how the formei 
had been massacred ; and also the peculiar views of the 
Puritans respecting " the sword of the Lord and of Gid- 
eon," we cannot wonder that Cromwell regarded him- 
self as commisioned to avenge the slaughter of the 
saints, w T hose bones lay bleaching ">n the moors of Ire- 
land. Justice and judgment were the only mottoes on 
his sword ; and he verily believed himself to be execut- 
ing both. 

If he had not been borne up by some such lofty 
sentiment as this, it is very doubtful whether he 
could have saved England from tyranny first, and from 
a war of factions afterwards. To such a man there is 
no wavering of purpose — no confusion of thought. The 
complicated motives and fears which distract the mere 
political leader he knows nothing of. With one grand 
object in view, he presses steadily towards it — erring, it 
may be, in hie means, but not in his motives To make 



1050.] DEFENCE OF IRISH CAMPAIGN. 29*i 

no allowance for the expectations or impressions that 
guide one, and judge him by his acts alone, would 
be to condemn all the great warriors of the Old Testa- 
ment as cut-throats. We have no doubt Cromwell con- 
sidered himself as much commissioned by the Lord as 
ever David did. As he took no glory to himself from 
his victories, so he felt no blame in the slaughters that 
preceded them. It was the work of the Lord, from first 
to last ; and he gave him all the glory, not doubting 
that he took all the responsibility. It is true, he had 
no right to this impression, for he had received no 
revelation from God. The warriors of Israel obtained 
their commission from Heaven, through its own ap- 
pointed medium ; and hence, their bloody wars were no 
more nor less than divine justice. But Cromwell had 
received no such commission in his Irish massacres, 
and to believe that he had, argued a want of moral 
sense which mars very much the excellency of his 
character. Still, it was an error of the intellect rather 
than of the heart ; and sprung from that very belief 
without which he could not have succeeded. Indeed, 
when we take into consideration the bitter animosity 
that existed between the Puritans and Papists, and the 
pious horror with which the former regarded the latter, 
especially after the protracted massacres in Ireland, it 
seems an error inseparable from his belief. Under the 
same circumstances — surrounded by the same influ- 
ences, and carried away by the same enthusiasm, who 
of us would have acted differently? 

Those who attempt to sustain the stale charge of hy- 



298 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

pocrisy, from his conduct in this campaign, would do well 
to explain why he affected no concealment — offered no 
explanations. A hypocrite, methinks, who knew him- 
self to be playing the villain, would take some pains to 
cover up his actions — at least, not be, himself, the most 
faithful historian of them. It is true, that his language 
and his actions, present, at times, a striking contrast; 
and some key is necessary to unlock the mystery 
which surrounds them; for, certainly, there is a mys- 
tery. But this key is not hypocrisy. To say that he 
used his religion as a cloak with which to cover up his 
violent acts, involves a still greater inconsistency than 
the one it seeks to explain. It is much more rational 
to suppose, that he w r as under the influence of a cer- 
tain religious fanaticism — a wrong idea of his mission, 
than to assert that he intentionally and blasphemously 
used the name of God to conceal his deep-laid am- 
bition. To say that, he snatched a few moments, from 
his fierce battles, to write to his children, bidding them 
fear God, and keep his commandments — or to his inti- 
mate friends, giving them a minute account of his 
spiritual experience, solely because he wished to play 
the hypocrite, or, in other words, to serve the devil 
without any provocation, is carrying prejudice beyond 
the bounds of reason. The speeches and letters of a 
man, both public and private, through a series of years, 
must reveal his character, if anything will. But, we 
have nearly two hundred letters, written in various 
periods of his life, to persons of every description, even 
*o his wife and children, in all the frankness of pa- 



1650.] SETTLEMENT OF IRELAND. 299 

rental affection ; and yet, no inconsistency in his cha- 
racter is seen. Those who term him a hypocrite, will, 
perhaps, explain this fact — one, we imagine, wholly un- 
explainable on the ground they take. Before the idea 
of power had dawned on his mind, or he had even 
dreamed a letter of his would be seen, except by his 
family, he utters the same religious phrases, indulges in 
the same religious sentiments, which, repeated in pub- 
lic, bring upon him the charge of can^ hypocrisy, and 
design. 

Much has been said of the unjust manner in which 
Ireland was finally settled. Confiscations were, doubt- 
less, extensive and heavy — indeed, poor Ireland has 
always been confiscated to death. It has made no dif- 
ference, whether fighting for her king or against him, 
she was sure to be confiscated. Clarendon states, and 
Villemain has adopted the ridiculous error, that all 
the Irish Catholics were driven into Connaught, and 
shut up there on pain of death, if they attempted to 
leave. One would think that the idea of crowding all 
Catholic Ireland into one province, was so preposterous 
in itself, that nobody would give the statement credence 
for a moment. 

Without entering into details, the outline of the 
plan of settlement was this : First, all the ringleaders 
who rr \ been engaged in the massacre of 1641, 
were, on conviction, to be put to death, or banish- 
ed as the court should decree. Second, those not 
engaged in the massacre, but had borne arms against 
parliament, were to forfeit two-thirds of their estates. 



300 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

and be banished during the pleasure of parliament, 01 
receive the value of the remaining it rd in land in 
Connaught ; while those who, choosing to remain neu- 
tral, had refused to take up arms for the common- 
wealth, were to forfeit one-third or one-fifth of theii 
estates, and remain in quiet possession of the remain- 
der. These severe enactments, however, affected only 
the upper classes, while "all husbandmen, ploughmen, 
laborers, artificers, and others of the mean sort, were to 
be asked no questions, and to receive no punishment." 
The design of parliament, in putting these severe con- 
ations on Ireland, was, no doubt, to give the pre- 
ponderance to the Protestants, who succeeded to the 
confiscated estates. 

These heavy enactments were rigorously carried out, 
and the flower of the kingdom fled into foreign lands, 
and took refuge in foreign service. The performance 
of Catholic ceremonies was made a capital offence, and 
the priests weu hunted down like common felons. 
" Priest-hunting became a favorite field sport," says a 
certain writer. This is, doubtless, a gross exaggeration ; 
but the persecution of the Papists was rigorous in the 
extreme. Still, Ireland flourished under this yoke of 
iron, as it never had done before — public order was 
restored — the laws were respected — industr) "evived 
and, in the language of Clarendon, " all this was uone 
and settled, within less than two years, to that degree 
of perfection, that there were many buildings raised for 
beauty as well as use — orderly and regular plantations 
of trees, and fences, and enclosures, raised throughout 



1 650.] CHARACTER OF CHARLES. 301 

the kingdom — purchases made by one from the other, 
at very valuable rates — adjointures made upon mar- 
riages, and all other conveyances and settlements ex- 
isted, as in a kingdom of peace, within itself, wherein 
no doubt could be made of the solidity of titles." Such 
was the result of the settlement made by the Puritan 
commonwealth. 

To show that Cromwell was not peculiar in his treat- 
ment of Ireland, we would refer the reader to the 
administrations of the two Charles's, who preceded and 
came after him — to the bill of rights, called "Graces," on 
the promise of granting which, Charles I. received money 
to the amount of a half a million of dollars, and then 
broke his royal word — and last of all to the terrible admin- 
istration of Strafford, which ended in a rebellion. This, 
of course, produced confiscation ; and, in ten days, " bills 
of indictment, for high treason, were found against all 
the Catholic nobility and gentry in the counties of Meath, 
Wicklow, and Dublin, and. three hundred gentlemen in 
the county of Kildare. These are but a small portion 
of the tender mercies of Charles I., the blessed martyr. 
Charles II., when he ascended the throne, instead of 
reversing the settlement made by the commonwealth, 
established it. These things are mentioned, to show 
that the cruel course pursued by parliament, towards the 
Irish, was not an exception, but the carrying out of a 
general rule. This makes a vast difference — if the 
confiscations and persecutions under the Puritans stood 
by themselves, distinct and separate monuments of op- 
pression, as their enemies imply, a strong case might 



302 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

be made out against their character. But when we 
remember they carried out a system which had prece- 
dents enough to make it constitutional, we pass the 
crime from sects over to the nation. The adminis- 
tration of Strafford, able though it is granted to have 
been, was one of the most unjust under which the Irish 
ever suffered. The truth is, Ireland has ever been 
regarded as so much common plunder, by England. 
From the twelfth century till now, she has, with 
scarcely one protracted interval, suffered under the yoke 
of her haughty mistress ; and it is not just to select out 
•jne period in order to stab republicanism. We have 
read history of modern civilization pretty thoroughly, 
and yet, we know of no examples of violated faith, 
broken treaties, corruption, bribery, violence, and op- 
pression, compared to those which the history of the 
English and Irish connexion presents. 

Ii the Commonwealth had lasted, Ireland would have 
been a Protestant kingdom, and her subsequent mis- 
fortunes avoided. 



CHAPTER X. 

INVASION OF SCOTLAND. 1650- 651. 

Cromwell Lands in England — His Reception— Accepts Command ot 
the Army Destined for Scotland — Charles 11. — His Base Conduct — 
Cromwell Marches North — Enters Scotland — Strives in Vain to Pro- 
voke Lesley to Give Battle — Lambert Wounded — Movements Around 
Edinburgh — Battle of Dunbar — Cromwell Invests Edinburgh Castle 
— Marches to Glasgow — Interviews with a Scotch Minister — Out- 
flanks the Scotch at Stirling, and Compels Them to Evacuate the 
Place — The Scotch Invade England — Pursued by Cromwell — Battle 
of Worcester — Review of Cromwell's Career. 

Cromwell had a stormy passage across the channel 
— quite in keeping with the life he had led for the last 
nine months — but, at length, arrived safely at Bristol. 
No sooner were his colors seen flying from the mast, 
than the town was in an uproar ; and, amid the firing of 
cannon, and shouts of the populace, he once more set 
foot on the shore of England. His journey to London 
was one triumphal march, and when he reached Hyde 
Park the city shook to the acclamations of the multi- 
tude and the roar of guns. After resting a few days, 
he took his seat in parliament, and was welcomed by 
a vote of thanks, accompanied by a highly eulogistic 
speech from Speaker Lenthall. Cromwell replied, 
giving a full account of affairs in Ireland and the plan 
he had marked out for Ireton. 



304 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Ireland being thus disposed of, it. became the Com- 
monwealth to turn its attention to other enemies who 
threatened its existence. France, domineering at sea, 
plundered English merchantmen — some of the remote 
colonial possessions were in revolt; while Scilly, Jersey, 
and the Isle of Man, refusing to acknowledge the 
government, carried on a piratical war against English 
commerce. But the chief danger, and that which de- 
manded immediate attention, was the attitude of Scot- 
land. The mad attempt of Montrose, who had landed 
from the Continent, and endeavored to overthrow the 
kirk party, Scotch, parliamentary army, and all; had prov- 
ed a failure, and the unfortunate nobleman been hung on 
a gallows thirty feet high, and his body divided into four 
quarters, been stuck up over the gates of the four chief 
towns in the kingdom. Charles II. who was at the bot- 
tom of the movement, then attempted to make a treaty 
with the Scotch, and commissioners were sent from Ed- 
inburgh to Breda, in the Netherlands, to confer with him. 
This dissolute, unprincipled, youth — with none of the vir- 
tues, and all the deceit and faithlessness of his father, 
finding no other means left him to obtain the crown, 
acceded to the hard conditions imposed upon him, and 
set sail in seven Dutch ships for Scotland. Before he 
landed he signed the Scotch covenant, by which he bound 
himself to root out the Episcopal Church : he was then 
entertained with long sermons and prayers, which he 
bore like a martyr. As he passed Aberdeen, on his way 
to Edinburgh, he saw one of the limbs of Montrose still 
hanging, blackened and weather-beaten, over the gate. 



1650.] BASENESS OF CHARLES II. 305 

He eventually crowned his hypocrisy and baseness 
by signing a declaration, in which he gave thanks to 
God for his timely conversion ; expressed his deep 
sorrow at his father's wickedness, and horror of his 
mother's idolatry; and swore eternal hostility to popery 
in every part of his realm. To sink this contemptible 
prince, whose beastly crimes afterwards made England 
a bye- word among the nations of Europe, still deeper 
in disgrace, the Scotch, before crowning him, re- 
quired him to undergo a public humiliation, and in 
the presence of the people repeat his abhorrence of his 
father's, grandfather's, and mother's acts; and perjure 
himself by solemnly avowing, that he sought the throne 
solely for the advancement of religion. He took the 
covenant three times with this terrible oath : " By the 
Eternal and Almighty God, who liveth and reigneth 
forever, I will observe and keep all that is contained 
therein." 

It was on account of these movements thru parlia- 
ment recalled Cromwell from Ireland. After some 
discussion respecting the course to be adopted, it was 
resolved not to permit the enemy, as heretofore, to cross 
the border, and lay waste the kingdom ; but to take the 
initial themselves, and invade Scotland. Fairfax, on 
account of some Presbyterian scruples, or, more proba- 
bly, at the instigation of his wife, refused to receive the 
command, and Cromwell, after vainly attempting to 
persuade him to change his mind, at length, reluctantly, 
accepted it himself. Not yet rested from his severe 
Irish campaign, he, nevertheless, would not decline, and 



306 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

again summoned his energies for war. Before depart, 
ing, he took Ludlow into a private room, and discoursed 
with him on matters in Ireland — on the ungodly cha- 
racter of English lawyers and law, and finally passed 
into a lengthy exposition of the hundred-and-tenth 
psalm, " The Lord at thy right-hand, shall strike through 
kings in the day of his wrath ; he shall judge among 
the heathen ; he shall fill trx* places with dead bodies ; 
he shall wound the heads over many countries, &c. ;" a 
prophecy which he set about fulfilling in a way most 
likely to secure its accomplishment. 

With his accustomed rapidity of movement, he, three 
days after his appointment, (June 28th,) was on his way 
to the North, whither the troops were already marching. 
Processions, acclamations, and salvos of cannon, at- 
tended his passage. At York, they gave him a grand 
dinner ; at Darnton, the artillery saluted him as he 
swept past, and at Newcastle, a magnificent reception 
was prepared. Lambert, as major-general, Whalley, 
Overton, Pride, and the renowned and afterwards infa- 
mous Monk, were the chief officers who accompanied 
him. At Newcastle, they had a solemn meeting for con- 
ference and prayer ; and the lord-general prayed and 
talked more like a parson than a military chieftain, with 
his band of heroes. 

Having arranged everything, he at length set out for 
Berwick, the place of rendezvous ; and on the 20th of 
July, reviewed the troops on Haggerston moor. Vive 
thousand four hundred and fifteen cavalry, noble steeds 
and brave riders as ever rushed to the shock ; ten thou- 



1650.] ENTERS SCOTLAND. 307 

sand two hundred and forty-nine foot, and a splendid train 
of artillery, consisting of six hundred and ninety ; in 
all, over sixteen thousand well appointed men consti- 
tuted this immortal army. Oliver rode slowly along 
their glittering ranks ; and his eye took a prouder look, 
as he thought of the might and terror with which thev 
could be hurled on the foe. That night, they encamped 
on the banks of the Tweed ; and the inhabitants 
frightened at the sudden appearance, kindled their 
beacon fires, and leaving their homes, fled northward. 
This army had been reported to them as a collection of 
monsters, whose cruelty spared neither age nor sex ; 
and hence their sudden flight. 

Ten days after the rendezvous, Cromwell drew his 
forces forward to a place from which this Scotch ter- 
ritory was in full view. Halting them there, he pointed 
to the scene of their future labors, and exhorted them 
to be faithful and brave, and God would smile on their 
efforts. A deafening shout rolled through the ranks, 
and then the line of march was resumed. That night, 
the army quartered in Scotland, at Mordington. Crom- 
well here issued a proclamation forbidding any one, on 
pain of death, to plunder or offer violence to the peace- 
ful inhabitants of the country, through which they 
should pass. He, also, in order to keep his forces 
compact, ordered that no soldier, without special license, 
should venture at any time more than a half a mile 
from the main army. A proclamation was also issued 
to the Scotch people giving the lie to slanders that had 



08 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

been promulgated by the Scotch clergy and parliament 
against the English troops. 

On Thursday, the 25th, the army began to advance, 
and the next day, reached Dunbar, and found the trans- 
ports laden with provisions, in the harbor. It then 
moved to Haddington, within twelve miles of Edin- 
burgh, and encamped. On Sunday, hearing that the 
Scotch were advancing to give battle, Cromwell, early 
in the morning, ordered the drums to beat to arms, and 
quickly arrayed his troops. Rapidly forming, the cav- 
alry went clattering forward, followed close by the eager 
columns, as they hurried on to get possession of Glad- 
ston Moor, before the enemy. But the report proving 
false, Oliver sent forward Lambert and Whalley with 
fourteen hundred horse, to Musselburgh, to reconnoitre ; 
while he followed with the main body. These com- 
manders soon came upon the Scotch army, 24,000 
strong, firmly ^entrenched between Edinburgh and 
Leith ; while nearly their whole Kne was raked by 
the guns of the latter place. Cromwell, on discerning 
the strength of the position, wisely resolved not to haz- 
ard an attack. 

Notwithstanding his superiority of numbers, old 
Lesley, the commander-in-chief, would not offer battle 
in the open field: — he knew Oliver too well — he had 
fought by his side at Marston Moor, and seen the wild 
work his Ironsides made, when given fair charging- 
ground ; and he lay snug behind his works. The latter, 
how3ver, moved up his cannon within long range, and 
also took King Arthur's Hill, which stood within a 



1 650.] L A M ii E R T WOUNDED. 309 

mile of Edinburgh, and overlooked the c ity and the 
enemy. Nothing else was attempted that day ; while, 
to discourage the soldiers still more, a heavy rain storm 
set in, and continued all night, drenching them to the 
skin. Most of them had nothing but the damp earth to 
rest upon ; yet, they never murmured, hoping for a 
battle next day. But, in the morning, Cromwell gave the 
orders to retreat to their encampment at Musselburgh. 

While the army was executing this order, and stea- 
dily falling back, the Scotch made a sally upon the 
rear-guard, and threw it into confusion. But a large 
body of horse, galloping to the rescue, they were 
quickly repulsed. Lesley, however, sending out heavy 
re-inforcements, they rallied, and returned to the 
charge ; and, for awhile, it was a close and hot con- 
test. But Lambert and Whalley, who commanded the 
rear — enraged at their first repulse, now poured their 
enthusiastic troops to the charge, with such impetuosity, 
that the enemy, after a short, but desperate struggle, 
broke, and fled. The blood of the republicans was now 
fairly up, and pressing after the flying foe, they charged 
to the very, trenches. Among the foremost — leading on 
their troops, and fighting like common soldiers, rode 
Lambert and Whalley, their swords drinking blood at 
every step. At length, Lambert's horse, struc t by two 
balls, plunged forward, and fell dead. Immediately two 
lances pierced the prostrate rider — one pinning his 
arm to the earth, and the other entering his body — and 
he was made prisoner. This would have been a sad 
day for Oliver, had not one of his own lieutenants, see- 



310 OLIVER CROMWELL, 

ing the danger of the major-general, dashed resolutely 
forward, and, at the peril of his own life, gallantly 
rescued him. Whalley, who saw the general fall, shouted 
to his men to charge; and, falling, like an overturned 
cliff, with his entire regiment, on the victorious enemy, 
broke them into fragments, and sent them in terror be- 
hind their works. 

This ended the day's fight; and Cromwell was 
allowed to draw off his army, without farther moles- 
tation — bearing his wounded major-general with him. 
He encamped, that night, at Musselburgh; and the 
weary and wet soldiers lay down to rest. But, between 
three and four o'clock in the morning, they were aroused 
by the hurried beat of drums, the cry of " To arms!" and 
the tramp of charging squadrons. Major-Generals 
Montgomery and Strahan, hoping to take the repub- 
licans by surprise, had suddenly fallen, with fifteen hun- 
dred horse, on the camp ; and driving in the guards, 
broken a regiment of horse which Cromwell had order- 
ed to hold itself in readiness, in case of an attack. But 
it was no easy matter to send a panic through this dis- 
ciplined host; and, though in the darkness and con- 
fusion they supposed the whole Scotch army was upon 
them, they rallied with the utmost precision and stea- 
diness ; and charging the enemy in turn, routed them — 
pursuing and slaying the fugitives even to the gates of 
Edinburgh. Several inferior officers w T ere killed and 
taken prisoners ; and Strahan himself, had to foot it 
in co the town, to escape being taken. 

We have spoken of the proclamation Cromwell issued 



1650.] HIS LETTER TO THE SCOTCH. 311 

at Berwick, to the people of Scotland. The general 
issembly answered it, with a long counter declaration ; 
to which a reply was sent, drawn up, doubtless, by 
5ome of the chaplains in the army. Cromwell accom- 
panied this with a letter of his own, to the general 
assembly, in which he gave them some very useful 
hints; and wound up by advising them to read "the 
twenty-eighth of Isaiah, from the fifth to the fifteenth 
verse." The thirteenth and fourteenth verses are as fol- 
lows : " But the word of the Lord was unto them, pre- 
cept upon precept — precept upon precept; line upon 
line — line upon line ; here a little and there a little, that 
they might go and fall backward, and be broken, and 
snared, and taken. Wherefore, hear the word of the 
Lord, ye scornful men, that rule this people which is in 
Jerusalem." We suspect he meant to have them read 
from the fifth to the fifteenth inclusive — the last being 
more pat than all the rest, as applied to the bargain and 
agreement they had just made with Charles II. " Be- 
cause ye have said, we have made a covenant with 
death, and with hell are we at agreement, when the 
overflowing scourge shall pass through, it shall not come 
unto us ; for we have made lies our refuge, and under 
falsehoods have we hid ourselves." The Presbyterian 
divines, doubtless, found this rather "strong meat," and 
not designed for "babes and sucklings." 

Two days after the date of this letter, Cromwell 
marched his army through the storm, back to Dunbar, 
to get supplies from his ships. The Scots, supposing it 
to be a retreat, had a day of solemn thanksgiving and 



3(2 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

rejoicing, over their great deliverance. But the pre- 
sence of his advance-guard at Musselburgh again on 
the 12th, checked their premature joy. 

Finding it useless to attempt to drive Lesley out of 
his entrenchments by occupying in front of him, he 
now removed to Pentland Hills, so as to cut off his sup- 
plies, and thus provoke him to battle. In the mean- 
time, another declaration was received from the kirk and 
states, repelling Cromwell's insinuations and quietly 
charging him with falsehood. Oliver replied, making 
good his first assertions. This correspondence was car- 
ried on by him for the sake of enlightening the honest 
portion of the Presbyterian party, and to induce them to 
reject the league with Charles. 

He lay two weeks longer around Edinburgh — march- 
ing now on this side, now on that, using every means 
to tempt Lesley out of his intrenchments, but in vain. 
On the 14th of August, he stormed a small garrison 
within a mile and a half of the city and in sight of the 
whole Scotch army, and took it. A week after this, 
Lesley sent some officers to him to hold a conference 
about the aspersion he had cast upon them saying, they 
were " afraid to come out of their trenches and holes 
and fight like men who had a good cause." Cromwell 
was glad to find that his taunts had told, and hoped to 
bring matters to some point— for the next morning the 
Scotch army drew off towards Stirling. He immedi- 
ately put his troops in motion, but when he came in 
front of the enemy, he saw that they had placed a wide 
bog between them and him. Provoked by this decep- 



1650.] RETREATS TO DUNBAR. 313 

tion, he commenced a tremendous cannonade over 
the morass, which he kept up all day. The Scotch 
answered, till the Pentland Hills and old Edinburgh 
Castle shook with the heavy explosions. Capt. Hodg 
son's company were at prayers, when a cannon-ball 
came singing past them, just (according to the gallant 
captain) as they reached the word "Amen ;" but, we 
suspect, the word "Amen" was uttered just as the 
cannon-ball went singing past. Oliver taught his men 
to pray before and after the battle, but not in it. At 
Marston Moor, an officer whom he ordered to charge 
began to pray, when he pressed a cocked pistol to his 
temple, and bade him stop praying and charge at 
once, or he would blow his brains out. He acted on 
the maxim, " there is a time for all things." 

Several were killed in this skirmish, on both sides ; 
but Cromwell seeing no benefit resulting from so 
distant firing, withdrew his troops, and encamped that 
night, in a tempest of wind and rain, within a mile of 
Edinburgh. 

Lesley, finding that the republican army had become 
sadly reduced by sickness, now attempted to play on 
Oliver the game he had been so long practising on 
him, and cut off his supplies, by interposing between him 
and his shipping. But the latter, getting wind of it, 
" fired his huts that Saturday night," and began his 
march towards Dunbar, where his ships lay. Lesley 
hung threateningly on his rear, and several skirmishes 
took place between separate detachments of horse — but 
the Scotch dared not risk a close engagement All 
14 



814 OLI V E R CROMWELL. 

that day, Sunday, the sick and wasted army fell steadily 
back, until, at length, it drew up in front of Dunbar, 
resolved to make a stand there by the ships. In the 
meantime, Lesley's columns gathered in a thick cloud 
upon Doon Hill, that overlooked it. Cromwell's troops 
had perished so fast, that out of the noble army he led 
over the borders only eleven thousand now remained fi/ 
for service. 



BATTLE OF DUNBAR. 

The spot on which Oliver drew up his little army, 
was a small, narrow, tongue of land, running out into 
the Frith of Forth — high and bleak near where it joined 
the mainland, and overlooking, on either side, the rest- 
less ocean. The town of Dunbar was behind him — a 
single mansion, Brocksmouth House, faced his extreme 
left — else there was not a covering on the desolate ex- 
panse. save one hut, into which the cannon were carried 
to shelter them from the rain, which fell in torrents. 

On this bleak and narrow peninsula, only a mile and a 
half wide at its base, behold the white tents of Cromwell's 
army ! In front of him, landward, is a desolate, unpass- 
able moor, with a low ridge of hills beyond, on which 
stands the Scotch army, twenty-three thousand strong 
At "the base of these runs a small streamlet, forty feet 
wide and almost as many deep ; furnishing only two 
passes over which troops can march. Cromwell's ships 
are in the offing, his now last remaining resource: the 
lion is at length caught, and the prey deemed secure. 



1650.] BATTLE Ot DUNBAR. 319 

On the second of September, Oliver looks forth from 
the desolate heath, on which his army is drawn up in 
order of battle ; and, lo ! what a sight meets his gaze. 
Behind him is the sea, swept by a strong wind ; and 
before him, blocking him in from shore to shore, a 
chosen army outnumbering his o\\ n two to one. The 
white tents, that are sprinkled over this low peninsula, 
rock to and fro in the storm of sleet and hail ; and dark- 
ness and gloom hang over the Puritan host. This strip 
of land is all that he has left in Scotland, while a power- 
ful army stands ready to sw T eep him into the sea. But it 
is in circumstances like these that his character shines 
forth with greatest splendor. Though his overthrow 
seems certain, he exhibits no discouragement or fear, 
for, " he was a strong man in the dark perils of war; in 
the high places of the field, hope shone in him like a 
pillar of fire, when it had gone out in all others!' A 
letter he writes to the governor of Newcastle, on the 
eve of this battle, is so characteristic, and, withal, so 
sublime, that we give it entire. 

To Sir Arthur Haselrig, Governor of Newcastle ; these 

" Dear Sir — We are upon an engagement very difficult. The 
enemy hath blocked up our way at the Pass at Coppers-path, 
through which we cannot get without a miracle. He lieth so 
upon the hills, that we know not how to come that way, without 
great difficulty; and our lying here daily, consumeth our men, 
who fall sick beyond imagination. 

"I perceive your forces are not in a condition for present relief. 
Wherefore, whatever comes of us, it will be well for you to get what 
forces you can together; and the South to help what they can. 
J"he business nearly concerneth all good people. If your forces 



316 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

had been in readiness to have fallen on the back of Coppers-path, 
it might have occasioned supplies to have come to us. But the 
only wise God knows what is best. All shall work for good 
Our spirits are comfortable, praised be the Lord — though our 
present condition be as it is. And, indeed, we have much hope in 
the Lord; of whose mercy we have had large experience. 

" Indeed, do you get together what force you can against them. 
Send to friends in the South to help with more. Let H. Vane 
know what I write. I would not make it public, lest danger should 
accrue thereby. You know what use to make thereof. Let me 
hear from you. 

" I rest your servant, 

"Oliver Cromwell.'' 

Nobly said. Indeed, it will be a miracle if he 
escapes ; yet, calm and self-sustained, he waits the 
issue. " Whatever becomes of him," he is still anxious 
for the cause in which he is struggling. Forgetting 
himself, in the nobleness of his great heart, he says; 
" Let me fall in silence — let not the news of my danger 
Dring discouragement on our friends — God's will be 
done." 

At four o'clock that evening, as he was watching 
the enemy's movements through his glass, he saw 
that the Scotch commander was bringing down the 
whole army from the hill to the brook at its base, to be 
ready next day to commence the assault. In this 
movement his quick eye detected an error, which, like 
Bonaparte, he determined to avail himself of. 

Lesley, in executing his manoeuvre, had packed his 
main body into a narrow space, where it could not 
easily deploy ; while the entire right wing stretched out 



1650.] THE CHARGE. 31? 

into the plain. Cromwell saw, that if he could rou 
this wing, and roll it back in disorder on the unwieldy 
mass, before it could draw up in order of battle in the 
open ground, victory would be sure. That night, there- 
fore, his twelve thousand men were placed in battle array, 
with nothing white about them to show conspicuous in 
the dusky twilight, and with orders, as soon as the morn- 
ing dawned, to fall on the enemy. All night long, the 
drenched army stood, without a tent to cover them, in 
the cold storm ; while the moan of the sea, as it rolled 
heavily on the beach, seemed chanting a requiem be- 
forehand, for the dead that should cumber the field. 
But, amid the shriek of the blast, and the steady roar 
of the waves, the voice of prayer was heard along the 
lines ; and many a brave heart, that before another 
night should beat no more, poured forth its earnest sup- 
plications to the God of battle. 

Towards morning, the clouds broke away, and the 
moon shone dimly down on the silent host. Cromwell, 
who had been intently watching the enemy's motions, 
now saw a column moving down the southern pass ; 
and lifting up his arm, exclaimed, " the Lord hath 
delivered them into our hands !" The trumpets then 
sounded the charge — the artillery opened their fire, 
while louder than all rang the shout, " The Lord of 
Hosts! the Lord of Hosts!" as infantry and cavalry 
poured in one wild torrent together on the enemy. 
The first division of the foot recoiled ; when Cromwell 
ordered up his own regiment, which, with levelled 
pikes, pressed sternly forward amid the carnage, bearing 



318 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

iown all opposition. At that moment, the cavalry 
came thundering on : the Scotch paused in terror 
the next moment the clattering tempest was upon them 
Over the brook and over the hostile ranks they went 
trampling down the steady battalions like grass beneath 
their feet, and bearing three thousand souls to the next 
world, in their fierce passage. In the midst of this ter- 
rible charge, on which Cromwell's eye rested with the 
deepest anxiety, the sun rose over the naked hills, and, 
struggling through the mist that was gently moving 
away from the battle-field, sent his level beams athwart 
the commingled hosts. 

So did the sun rise on Napoleon at Borodino, as he 
stood and surveyed the field on which two hundred and 
sixty thousand men were moving to battle, and the 
sublime expression burst from his lips, " Behold the Sun 
of Austerlitz !" But Cromwell, carried away by a higher 
sentiment than glory, gave vent to his emotions in sub- 
limer language. As the blazing fire-ball rolled slowly 
into view and poured its light over the scene, he burst 
forth, "let God arise, and let his enemies be scattered!" 
Aye, and they were scattered. The right wing, broken 
and disordered, was rolled in a confused mass upon the 
main body of the army ; and the panic spreading, those 
twenty thousand men became a cloud of fugitives, 
sweeping hither and thither over the field. At the base 
of Doon Hill, on which the enemy had been encamped, 
Cromwell ordered a general halt : and while the horse 
could be rallied for the chase, bade the army s [ng the 
hundred and seventeenth Psalm. " Hundred and seven- 



1050.] THE VICTORY. 319 

teenth Psalm, at the foot of Doon Hill; there we uplift it 
to the tune of Bangor, o~ some still higher score, and roll 
it strong and great again:?., the sky." As the mighty an- 
them died away on the field, the shout of battle was again 
heard ; and the fierce cavalry drove amid the broken 
ranks, riding down the fugitives and sabring them 
without mercy, till the ground was covered with the 
dead 

Three thousand were slain ; and ten thousand taken 
prisoners ; while fifteen thousand stand of arms ; two 
hundred stands of colors, and twenty-seven cannon ; re- 
mained as spoils to the victors. It was an utter rout of 
the Scotch : the whole country around became covered 
with a disorderly multitude, through which the steady 
squadrons of the republicans galloped without resistance. 

Cromwell never appeared to better advantage than 
on this occasion. He had been forced to remain inac- 
tive, while his army dwindled rapidly away ; and at 
last made a stand where the chances were all against 
him. But these adverse events had only excited him 
to greater efforts ; and in the midst of the battle, those 
who saw him say he appeared like one inspired. He 
was now fifty-one years of age ; but his life of excite- 
ment, exposure, and toil, had made heavy demands on 
his iron constitution. The rich and clustering hair 
of youth had fallen away, and thin grey locks but 
partially covered his wrinkled temples and expansive 
forehead. What between religious enthusiasm — the 
intense thought and anxiety to which the perilous posi- 

* Vide Carlyle. 



320 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

iion of himself and country made him a constant prey; 
and his unparalleled physical labors ; reckless exposures 
to all elements and seasons ; his hardy frame began tc 
yield ; and we find him, the next day after the battle, 
writing to his wife, saying, "I have been, in my inward 
man, marvellously supported; though, / assure thee, 1 
grow an old man, and feel the infirmities of age stealing 
upon me. Would my corruptions did as fast decrease !" 
Now that the strain of the last six weeks is off, he feels 
how overtasked he has been ; and the reaction of mind 
and fcody remind him that the vigor and elasticity of 
youth are departing. The stern, knit brow has relaxed, 
and the flashing eye lost its fire ; and with a shade of 
melancholy subduing his strong features, he looks over 
the battle-field, and thinks of his own mortality. 

Immediately after the action, he issued a proclama- 
tion, by beat of drum, granting permission to the 
inhabitants to come and carry off the dead, and remove 
and help the wounded. Five thousand persons were 
turned loose on the spot, as they encumbered the army ; 
while three thousand more were marched southward ; 
and at Morpeth, Newcastle, Durham, and by the way- 
side, died in crowds from the cruel treatment they 
received. 

At the same time, he despatched Lambert, with seven 
regiments, to take Leith and Edinburgh, both of w T hich 
opened their gates, though the castle of the latter, 
perched on its impregnable cliff, refused to come to 
terms. He, himself, soon followed, with his whole 
army, and invested the castle Tr the meantime, he 



1650.] LECTURES THE CLERGY. 321 

sent word to the governor, (Dundas,) that the ministers 
should have free permission to return to the city, and 
preach unmolested. The clergy sent back a sulky an- 
swer — refusing to take advantage of the permission, 
declaring, that his persecutions towards the ministers 
of Christ had been personal, since his unjust invasion 
and, that they were " resolved to reserve themselves foi 
better times ; and, to wait upon Him who hath hidder 
his face for awhile, from the sons of Jacob." To thi? 
Oliver returned a sharp and pungent reply, telling them 
that if they had their " master's service in their eye," as 
they pretended, they would not have refused his offer 
but gladly availed themselves of it, to preach the Gos- 
pel ; — that he had never persecuted, nor interfered with 
any minister, while pursuing his proper vocation, for 
which he entertained the highest respect. But, " when 
ministers pretend to a glorious reformation, and lay the 
foundations thereof, in getting to themselves worldly 
power, and can make worldly mixtures, to accomplish 
the same, (such as their late agreement with the king,) 
and hope to carry on their design, they may know that 
the Sion promised, will not be built of such untempered 
mortar. As for the unjust invasion they mention, time 
was when an army of Scotland came into England, not 
called, by the supreme authority."* " And although," 
he says, " they comfort themselves with being sons of 
Jacob, from whom God hath hid his face for a time," 
he tells them it is no wonder they are chastened, when 
they will not recognize His hand in the vengeance so 
* Vide Carlyle's Letters and Speeches of Cromwell, p. 480. 



322 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

often visited on the house of Stuart.* " The Scotch 
clergy," says Carlyle, wittily. " never got such a repri- 
mand since they first took ordination" 

A long correspondence was afterwards carried on — 
ended on the part of Cromwell, by proposing four tough 
queries, which the Scotch theologians found it difficult 
to answer. They are given at length in Carlyle, who 
thus comments on them : " You can consider that , my 
friends ; and think, on the whole, what kind of course 
you are probably getting into — steering towards a king- 
dom of Jesus Christ, with Charles Stuart, and Mrs. 
Barlow] at the helm." 

The remaining troops of the enemy — Charles at 
their head — rallied in Stirling; and thither Cromwell 
marched on the 14th, and drew up before the town. 
Finding the place, however, too strongly fortified to 
hazard an attack, he marched back again, and set down 
in earnest before the castle of Edinburgh. On the 29th 
he began his mines, determined to blow rock and all 
into the air. 

Notwithstanding the victory of Dunbar, and the 
danger which now threatened Scotland, the most bit- 
ter factions divided the State. The chief of these were 
the "king and kir*k party, " with Charles at its head, 
entrenched at Stirling ; — the party against the king, 
called " Remonstrators," commanded by Ker and 
Strahan, holding chiefly the West ; and the purely 

* Vide Appendix. No. IV. 

f One of the notorious women with whom Charles began his di#- 
•olule career. 



1650.] TAMES A DIVINE. 323 

"king party" under Middleton, who roamed the High- 
lands. 

Hearing, while before Edinburgh Castle, that Kef 
and Strahan were mustering in force, threatening to 
march on the town itself, Cromwell, with nine regi- 
ments, departed hastily for Glasgow, which he entered 
without opposition. A leg of the unfortunate Montrose 
hung blackening in the sun, over the gates, as he passed 
through. Here he remained two days. It is said that 
he sent for Gillespie, principal of the college, and chief 
ecclesiastical dignitary, in those parts; and after some 
conversation, prayed with him — the lord-general tak- 
ing occasion in the course of his prayer to give a 
pretty full and clear exposition of his theological views. 
On Sunday he went to church, and heard the clergy- 
man (the Rev. Zachary Boyd, or as others state, James 
Durham, once in the army,) abuse him roundly, as an 
enemy of God and the true faith. Thurloe, incensed 
at his audacity, wished to pull him out of the pulpit by 
the ears, but Cromwell told him to sit still — that he was 
one fool, and the minister another. After service, he 
asked the choleric divine to dinner, and entertained him 
generously. When dinner was over, he requested him 
to lead in prayer, which he did, followed by Cromwell. 
This season of religious conversation and prayer, 
seemed to have wrought a wonderful change in the 
Rev. Zachary Boyd's views, which was made most 
apparent in the prelections of the worthy man on the 
next Sunday. It is said, though we know not with 
how much truth, that Cromvell prayed three hours 



324 OLIVER CR MWELL. 

If so, no wonder the minister was converted ; for, such 
astonishing gifts and graces, but few even of the stiff 
Covenanters possessed. 

Returning to Edinburgh, Oliver pressed the siege of 
the castle, and soon succeeded in running his subter- 
ranean galleries to the rock on which it stood. The 
work, then, became slow and tedious. 

In the meantime, Lambert and Whalley had been 
sent out towards Glasgow, to watch the movements of 
Ker and Strahan. The former was surprised, while 
ying at Hamilton Town, by the enemy, who broke in 
upon him about four o'clock in the morning, with fifteen 
hundred horse. Lambert, however, succeeded in rally- 
ing his men ; and routed the assailants, chasing them for 
miles out of the town. This was the end of the party 
of " Remonstrators," — Ker being dangerously wounded, 
and Strahan after awhile joining the republicans. 

Cromwell, in the meantime, finding how tedious and 
slow the mining operations were becoming, raised a 
mount near the castle, and in spite of the fire from the 
latter, planted four mortars, and six heavy guns upon it 
and summoned Dundas to surrender. The latter re- 
plied, that he wished first to confer w 7 ith " the commit- 
tee of estates." Oliver, knowing well what reply the 
committee would give, refused permission, and opened 
his fire. Dundas then requested to be allowed a con- 
ference with the provosts of Aberdeen and Edinburgh, 
which was granted. But these functionaries would 
give no advice, telling him he must take the whole 
responsibility on himself. The latter finally resolved to 



1G50 ] TAKES EDINBURGH CASTLE. 325 

hold out to the last ; and having despatched this reso- 
lution to Cromwell flung out the red flag of defia \ce 
over the battlements, and opened his heavy guns. 
Oliver replied with a rapid and well-directed fire. 
The old castle trembled under the heavy shot that 
smote its walls ; but, still more, under the explosion of 
its own artillery, which made it seem like a volcano 
there on the cliff, spouting forth flame and smoke. After 
keeping up this hurly burly for awhile, Dundas imagined 
he had done his whole duty, and beat a parley. Nego- 
tiations were opened, and the valiant governor, obtaining 
honorable terms, surrendered the castle to Cromwell, 
who immediately entered it in triumph.* 

The army now went into winter-quarters, and nothing 
of note happened till spring : — the reduction of several 
small garrisons on the shores of the Firth, being the only 
military expeditions attempted. Parliament sent an 
artist to Edinburgh, to take Oliver's portrait for a 
medal which was to be struck in commemoration of 
the victory at Dunbar. The latter thought this a very 
ridiculous move, and proposed that the victory should 
be commemorated by "a gratuity to the army " and 
if they would have a medal, put parliament on one 
side, "and on the other an army, with this inscription 
over the head of it — ' The Lord of Hosts,' which was 
our word that day." 

The king was crowned in January, and the forces 
immediately began to muster from every part of Scot- 
land Cromwell, who was, in reality, master of the 

24th of December. 



326 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

whole country south of the Forth ; saw all these pre- 
parations, and laid down the plan of his future cam- 
paign. Fenwick and Syles were ordered to reduce 
Hume Castle ; while he, with the main army, on the 4th 
of February, 1651, took up the line of march for Stir- 
ling, where the enemy still lay entrenched. Fenwick 
accomplished his mission, despite the conceited com- 
mander, who in reply to his summons to surrender, 
sent the following answer: 

". I, William of the Wastle, 
Am now in my castle ; 
A' awe the dogs in the town, 
Shan't gar me gang down."* 

The republican colonel, as the quaint writer re- 
ferred to says, gave "heroic verse for his resolute 
rhymes ;" and opening a breach in his walls, made him 
" gang down on his own terms." 

The march of Cromwell to Stirling, was not so suc- 
cessful. A fierce snow and hail storm set in, which 
impeded his march, and so exhausted the soldiers, that 
after arriving at Kilayth, he was compelled to turn 
back. He took a severe cold in this expedition, which 
ended in the ague, and, for awhile, seriously threatened 
his life. The army was filled with consternation, while 
the Scotch gave way to the most extravagant hopes. 
Thjy verily believed, that God had finally heard their 
pr ^ers, and was about to take away their chief enemy. 
F had three relapses, and was not completely restored 

• Vide Perfec 4 Politician, of 1GS0 



1651.] HIS SICKNESS. 327 

till the first of July. Parliament, alarmed at his pro- 
tracted illness, sent two eminent physicians, Doctors 
Wright and Bates, to attend him ; and soon after passed 
a vote, giving him permission to return home, until his 
health should be re-established. But Cromwell's great 
strength of constitution at length prevailed over his 
disease. 

Re-inforcements and supplies, in the meantime, had 
arrived, and he took the field with a fresh and vigorous 
army. On the 16th of April, there was a grand muster 
of the troops at Musselburgh, and the general rode out 
to review them. No sooner was that well-known form 
seen advancing along the lines, than they rent the 
heavens with shouts : and as they looked on his pale 
face, so changed since they last saw it, " God save the 
lord-general /" shook the field. 

That afternoon, the army was put in motion for Glas- 
gow, where it arrived on Saturday. Cromwell remained 
here two days ; when hearing that the king was bestir- 
ring himself, he returned to Edinburgh. This effort 
caused a relapse ; and was the occasion of the phy- 
sicians being sent by parliament. 

On the 25th of June, however, he was again in the 
saddle, and his army pitched their tents on the Pentland 
Hills. Thev presented a splendid spectacle there in the 
spring sunlight — "the towering tents of the superior 
officers," with bam ers floating above them, standing 
amid the countless huts of the inferior soldiers, like 
the "pinnacles in a well-built City, over the humble 
cottages.' 



328 OLIVER CROMWELL 

While they lay thus encamped on tne heights, their 
general gave a splendid dinner to the officers, many of 
whose wives — and among them Lady Lambert, graced 
the festival. 

On the 2d of July, the army was again put in motion 
towards Stirling, hoping the enemy would give battle. 
But the Scotch were in no hurry to measure their 
strength a second time with the victors of Dunbar, and 
remained behind their impregnable works. Thus march- 
ing and counter-marching, without accomplishing any- 
thing, Cromwell became impatient, and, at length, resolv- 
ed to take Calendar House — a garrison in full view of the 
enemy — and, if possible, provoke them to defend it. On 
the 15th of July, he opened his batteries, and having 
made a breach, stormed, and took it. Finding this had 
no effect, he planned a bolder movement — to cross over 
and seize Fife, and thus out-flanking the Scotch, cut oft 
their supplies. This brought on a fierce battle between 
Overton and the garrison of Fife. Re-inforcements 
were sent in all haste to the latter ; but Lambert com- 
ing up at the same time, to the help of Overton, the 
enemy were completely routed, with the loss of nearly 
two thousand slain, and a large number of prisoners. 
The fort of Inchgarvie, hitherto deemed impregnable, 
next fell. Burntisland followed — of still greater account, 
from its having a fine harbor, in which the ships 
with supplies, could ride. Cromwell then marched on 
Johnston — a place commanding the pass of Stirling, 
through which all the supplies from the Highlands 
came — and took it. 



1651 ,] BOLD MARCH OF THE ENEMY. 329 

The strong defences of Stirling, by this flank move- 
ment, were uncovered ; and the Scotch leaders saw that 
they must risk a battle on somewhat eo^al terms, or 
evacuate the place. In these desperate circumstances, 
it was boldly resolved " to carry the war into Africa ;" 
and marching straight for England, endeavor to rouse 
the loyalty of the country. Full sixteen thousand 
strong, the army crossed the borders, near Carlisle, on 
the 6th of August, and pressed rapidly southward. So 
sudden and unexpected was this movement, that it 
filled England with consternation, and parliament itself 
with alarm. Cromwell, too, was taken by surprise at 
this exhibition of energy and daring in an army that 
had hitherto evinced so much hesitation and want of 
confidence. Comprehending, however, at once, the 
full extent of the danger, he immediately wrote to par- 
liament not to be alarmed, as he would soon overtake, 
and vanquish the enemy ; and, in the meantime, hurried 
off an express to Harrison, already on the borders, to 
impede the king's march as much as possible. Lambert 
was also despatched in hot haste, with five regiments 
of horse and dragoons, to fall on the enemy's rear, and 
harass him into delays. 

Scotland was still unsettled, and demanded the 
presence and management of Cromwell ; but hastily 
adopting such measures as would secure what was 
already won, he left six thousand men under Lieuten- 
ant-General Monk ; and taking only ten regiments 
and eight camon with him, set off in full pursuit. 
Piessing his enthusiastic troops to the top of their 



330 OLIVER CROM W ELL. 

speed, he crossed the Tyne, only six days after Charles 
The Scotch army, steering southward through Lan- 
cashire, was bravely met at Warrington Bridge by 
Harrison ; but bearing down all resistance by its over- 
whelming numbers, it swept steadily on. At length, 
however, the leaders growing disheartened at the 
coldness of the towns through which they passed, and 
the steady refusal of every garrison to surrender ; 
resolved to leave the London road, and turn aside to 
Worcester. 

All this time, like a dark resistless storm, Cromwell 
came thundering on their rear ; while the sound of 
rising arms was heard on every side. In a short time, 
40,000 militia were raised for the defence of the nation. 
He, however, did not wait for these new levies to arrive, 
but re-inforcing himself as he best could, collected, by 
extraordinary efforts, 30,000 men, and swept swiftly 
down on Worcester. 



BATTLE OF WORCESTER. 

The town of Worcester, well fortified, lay upon the 
eastern side of the Severn ; while opposite to it, and 
connected with it by a bridge, were strong works, 
heavily garrisoned ; so that the place could not easily 
be approached from either bank. These outposts were 
on a tongue of land made by the river Team, which 
empties into the Severn just below them ; so that in 
advancing upon Worcester from that side, one must 
first cross the Team, then carry 'he works before he 



I , * i. \ AlVANCES ON WORCESTER. «S3 1 

couiti puss the i$e\ern by the bridge which connected 
the two banks. 

Cromwell caii.?, uown along the bank on which the 
town stood, where the defences, strong by nature, had 
been by art rendered almost impregnable. Hurrying 
on with his advanced ^uavd, he arrived at night before 
the place, five days in advance of the main army. He 
found all the bridges broken down — every boat removed 
— new defences thrown up, and preparations made 
for a stern resistance ; while in the long lines of fires, 
that streaked the hei jhts, and threw a ruddy glare on 
the heavens, he saw what a formidable c orce was there, 
ready to repel his assaults. 

But on the very night of his arrival, L&AiLert crossed 
over the Severn at Upton, a few miles below Worces- 
ter ; and assailing Massey drove him from his post, 
and occupied it himself. The bridge had been destroy- 
ed ; but Lambert's men, dismounting from their horses, 
crawled silently across on a single piece of timber, which 
stretched from arch to arch ; and forming on the 
opposite shore, took the enemy by surprise, and repaired 
the bridge. 

Cromwell, in the meantime, pushed his reconnoi- 
sances on every side ; and by Tuesday night, September 
2d, when Fleetwood, with the main army, arrived, had 
his plans all matured. He would not wait for re-in- 
forcements, nor till the troops could rest from their long 
and wearisome marches : for the next day was the 
%d of September — the anniversary of the glorious battle 
of Dunbar md his fortunate day ; — and so he pushed 



33*2 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Fleetwood, that night, over the bridge which Lambert 
had repaired. At day-light, this gallant officer began 
to advance ; and marching up opposite Worcester, 
prepared to attack the works connected with it by the 
Severn bridge. But the river Team arrested his 
progress, and he was compelled to halt and build a 
bridge of boats across it. Between him and Cromwell 
in full view on the opposite bank, lay this small stream, 
together with the narrow tongue of land formed by its 
junction with the Severn, and the Severn itself. The 
arrangement was, to have Fleetwood attack these out- 
posts, and endeavor to force his way across the Severn 
bridge into Worcester ; while Cromwell, on his side of 
the river, should fall on Fort Royal, and storm the town. 
It was, however, of the utmost importance to restore the 
communication between the portions of his army now 
broken by the Severn ; so that each could help the 
other, in case of need. So while Fleetwood was throw- 
ing a bridge of boats across the Team, Cromwell threw 
another — the extremities of the two separated only by 
the tongue of land formed by the junction of the rivers 
— over the Severn, to the same point. All day long, the 
sound of the hammer and the heavy fall of timber, were 
heard on the banks ; while the towers and cathedrals of 
Worcester were crowded with spectators, watching the 
terrific preparations. There, too, stood the youthful 
king, surrounded by his officers, and speaking in anxious 
tones of the coming struggle. 

At length, late in the afternoon, the bridges were 
completed, and Fleetwood, from his side, marched over 



1051.] BATTLE OF WORCESTER. 333 

the Team, to attack the works of St. John. Cromwell, 
hurrying everything on with the utmost despatch, had 
chafed like a lion in the toils, as the sun of his fortunate 
day declined ; and hence, no sooner saw his bridge com- 
plete, than he spurred upon it at the head of his column, 
and was the first man across. The Scotch officers, from 
the top of the cathedral, saw the dark masses upon the 
opposite side of the town move upon their works, and 
immediately despatched a strong re-inforcement across 
to their support. 

In the meantime, the scene of carnage had commenc- 
ed. Amid the roar of cannon and shouts of defiance, 
Fleetwood had charged, like fire, on the strong de- 
fences of the Scotch and, driving them from hedge to 
hedge, threatened to carry everything before him. In 
the tumult of the fight, he did not hear the clattering 
squadrons that were hurrying over the bridge to the 
relief of the enemy, and was pushing his slight advan- 
tage gallantly when these fresh troops burst upon him. 
He bore up nobly against the overwhelming numbers, 
and for awhile successfully breasted the torrent ; but, 
gradually overpowered, he gave ground, and was rolling 
heavily back towards the Team, when Cromwell, who 
saw his danger, hurried battalion after battalion, with as- 
tonishing rapidity, over his bridge of boats, which rush- 
ing with shouts to the attack restored the tide of battle. 
The king and his officers, from the : ~ elevated position, 
had a bird's eye view of the whole scene, ar d hence 
could take advantage of every change. No sooner, 
therefore, did they see what heavy forces Cromwell was 



334 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

taking over to the assistance of Fleetwood, than the} 
resolved to sally out, and fall on those left behind before 
help could be rendered. In a moment, the trumpets 
sounded, and the excited columns began to pour forth 
But Oliver, whom no surprise could find unprepared, 
was already back amid his men, and, cheering them by 
his presence and his voice, waited the attack. The 
onset of the Scotch was tremendous — despair lent them 
energy, and discharging their pieces in the very faces 
of the republicans, they rushed on them with levelled 
pikes, and the conflict became close and bloody. Crom- 
well, finding his troops beginning to shake, forgot he 
was lord-general, and with his sword flashing over his 
head, and his eye glancing fire, galloped where the shot 
fell thickest. His rough voice was heard above the 
tumult, as, carried away by that strange excitement 
which mastered him at Dunbar, he cheered on his men. 
Hour after hour, they stood under the murderous fire, 
and charged desperately on the stands of pikes, but not 
an inch did the resolute Scotch yield. At length the 
republicans gave way — many of them being raw r 
recruits — and the bleeding line swung disorderly 
back. In this dreadful crisis, Cromwell dashed up to 
his own favorite regiment, which he had held in 
reserve, and led them on in person. With the terrible 
shout, that rolled so ominously over the fields of Dun- 
bar, " The Lord of Hosts ! the Lord of Hosts !" 
this veteran regiment closed sternly around their be- 
loved chieftain, and in one, dark, resistless wave, swept 
full on the victorious enemy. The panic-stricker 



1651.] THE BATTLE-FIELD. 33U 

Scotch, arrested in their onward course, borne hack, 
trampled under foot, and broken into fragments, before 
that astonishing charge, turned and fled into the town 
The excited republicans followed after, and swarming 
around Fort Royal, summoned it to surrender. The 
commander refusing, "it was carried, in all the wild 
triumph of victory, by a furious storm." And fifteen 
hundred men swept, as by a sudden tempest, into the 
world of spirits. The guns were then turned upon the 
enemy, and the cannon-balls went ploughing through the 
shattered and flying ranks with frightful effect. 

Fleetwood, too, victorious on his side, had driven the 
enemy from their position, and pursuing them over the 
bridge, entered the town : — then the sacking and slaugh- 
tei commenced. The clatter of flying cavalry — inces- 
sant volleys of musketry — the close struggle between vic- 
torious and despairing men — the shouts and shrieks, 
the groans of women, children, and combatants, com- 
bined to make the night hideous, and the last battle of 
Cromwell one of the most fearful of his life. 

At length, the strife ceased; and streets strewed with 
wrecks of the fight, rivulets of blood welling from un- 
derneath heaps of corpses ; and pale and mangled men, 
scattered on every side, crying piteously for water, at- 
tested how fierce and sanguinary the struggle had been. 
It is said, that after all was over, as Cromwell stood and 
gazed on the scene in the starlight, he burst into a 
boisterous laugh. The excitement had been too great 
for his weak and over- wrought system ; and he was 
almost wild with excitement. No wonder — arising from 



3Sfi OLIVER CROMWELL. 

a sick bed, he had been strung to the greatest efforts^ 
and v.TOught to the highest pitch of feeling ; and then, 
without the least repose, fought one of the most des- 
perate battles of his life, in which victory, for a long 
time, wavered to and fro. 

But this burst of passion soon subsided ; and return- 
ing to his tent at ten o'clock, he sat down, as he him- 
self says, "weary, and scarce able to write," and sent 
his despatch to parliament. He declared that "the di- 
mensions of this mercy were above his thoughts." In- 
deed," said he, " it is, for aught / know, a crowning 
mercy?' It proved such to him ; for it put the three 
kingdoms under his control. The Scotch army was 
utterly shivered — scarce three thousand of it eve 
being heard of again. To swell, if possible, this tri- 
umph ; two days before, Monk had stormed Dundee, and 
carried it with great slaughter. 

When the news reached London, the population was 
thrown into paroxysms of joy. On the Sabbath, Crom- 
well's despatches were read in all the pulpits ; and the 
low "hallelujahs," and deep "aniens," that rolled from 
Puritan breasts, evinced the uncontrollable emotions 
that mastered them. 

Oliver remained a few days after the battle, to give 
orders respecting the prisoners, among whom were 
many nobles* — some of whose heads were destined to 

* Seven earls, and others of inferior rank; two major-generals, 
nineteen colonels; seventeen lieutenant-generals, and other officers 
in proportion. The Duke of Hamilton had his leg broken, and died 
on the fourth day. 



1651. I REVIEW OF HIS CAREER. 337 

the block — and level the walls of the town to the 
ground, and fill up the ditches ; then started for London, 
where he arrived on the 12th, amid discharges of can- 
non and acclamations that shook the city to its foun- 
dations. The lord-mayor feasted him ; and parliament 
voted him thanks, and emoluments to the amount of 
£4000 per annum. The transition from such sudden 
danger into complete security, intoxicated the people ; 
and Cromwell stood on the pinnacle of power. 

In Scotland, the work of entire subjugation was 
completed by Monk, who, by his energy and discipline, 
succeeded in securing order and peace, such as the 
government had sought in vain to attain. 

The battle of Worcester finished Cromwell's mili- 
tary career. From that time forward he was to be 
supreme ruler in England. His last battle had been 
fought — his last victory won ; and it only remained to 
gather up the fruits of his toil. 

At this point, it is natural to pause, and look back on 
his career. 

From 1642, when the first battle of Edgehill was 
fought, to the battle of Worcester, 1651, were years of 
trouble and uncertainty. During this period of toil and 
of victory, Cromwell moves before us like some resistless 
power, crushing everything that would stay its progress. 
Simple, austere, and decided, he maintains his ascen- 
dancy over the army ; and, with the Psalms of David 
on his lips, and the sword of war in his hand, sweeps 
over his victorious battle-fields, like a leader of the host 
of Israel. Never cast down by reverses, or dismayed 
15 



338 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

by danger, he meets every crisis with the coolness and 
self-possession of a great mind. 

Whether fighting with the Scots against the king, or 
beleaguering Edinburgh with his little army — whether 
quelling rebellion in different parts of the realm, or 
bending his vast energies against his monarch in a 
pitched battle, he rises before us the same determined, 
self-collected, and resolute man. Whether bowed in 
fasting and prayer before God, or trampling down the 
ranks of the enemy, under the hoofs of his cavalry — 
whether lost in a strange enthusiasm over a Psalm of 
David, or standing alone — the rock around which the 
waves of the revolution finally calmed themselves to 
rest, or sank in fruitless rage — he exhibits the same lofty 
purpose and upright heart. Dismayed by no obstacle, 
disheartened by no reverses, he leans in solemn faith on 
the arm of the God of battles and of truth. Without 
the feverish anxiety which belongs to ambition, or the 
dread of defeat that accompanies love of glory, he is 
impelled onward by a feeling of duty, and loses himself 
in the noble cause for which he is struggling. Acting 
under the eye of heaven, with his thoughts fixed on 
that dread judgment where he must render up a faith- 
ful record of his deeds, he vacillates only when he 
doubts what is right, and fears . only when a pure God 
rises before him. 

Nothing but noble motives could have drawn him, 
at his age, into the career he followed. The fervor 
and enthusiasm of youth had fled, and he had reached 
ar. age when the call of ambition begins to sound faint 



1651.] HIS CAREER. 339 

and doubtful. A sober, religious farmer, he girded on 
the sword when forty-three years of age : and taking 
his oldest son, who bore his name, entered the field, 
where anything but glory seemed to be the promised 
reward. That beloved son he saw fall before the blow 
of the foeman ; and though he had a wife and family 
to bind him to life, he seemed to be unconscious he had 
a life to lose. By his bold and decided action, his rapid 
movement, his rigid discipline, and boiling courage, he 
triumphed over the most overwhelming obstacles, per- 
formed prodigies of valor, and filled the world with the 
renown of his deeds ; and yet, he refused all praise to 
himself, referring everything to the goodness of God. 
Yet, there was no blind credulity in this reliance on 
heaven — no sluggish dependence ; for he strained every 
nerve, and employed every means, as if all rested on 
himself. He trusted both in God and his own great soul. 
That he carried his ideas of special Providence too far, 
few of the present day will doubt. He thought the 
glorious era, when the Israelites marched behind the 
pillar of fire and of cloud, and were guided in every 
step by the direct interposition of heaven, might be 
restored. 

No one who has studied his character deeply, can 
doubt that he contemplated establishing a kind of the- 
ocracy, in which the nation should be a pure church, 
and God its Head. That so thorough a practical man 
should have nourished so visionary a theory, seems 
strange enough; but the truth is, notwithstanding his 
stern, rugged, and unpoetic nature, Crcmwell had a 



340 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

touch of superstition about him, which his matter 
of fact character and practical life could not remove. 
This did not turn him into a wild fanatic, or drive 
him into monkish habits or gloom; nor even fetter 
the free action of his mental powers ; it only gave 
them a religious direction. He thus became an 
enthusiast, and startled men with those sudden in- 
spirations that sometimes flash forth from the soul 
of genius, like foreshadowings of future events. He 
sw-w farther than the other great men of his time, 
and alone was capable of conducting the revolu- 
tion to the goal it reached. As a military man, he 
showed no extraordinary depth of combination, and in- 
troduced no improvements in military science: yet 
he beat the best generals of the kingdom, fought suc- 
cessfully against the most overwhelming numbers, and 
gained every battle he fought. 

It is idle to speak of such a man as a mere creature 
of circumstances. Facts are better than theories — and 
the power of Cromwell obtained ; the success that attend- 
ed every effort, and the steady hand with which he held 
all the raging elements of the revolution in check, prove 
him to have possessed a character of amazing strength, 
even though it exhibited no single extraordinary quality. 
Sudden and great success may attend a weak mind in 
certain favorable circumstances, but in a long protract- 
ed and complicated struggle, the strong man alone 
wins. The plebeian, who in England under any circum- 
stances, can bring successfully to his feet, king, parlia- 
ment, and people — quietb and firmly seat himself down 



1651 . ^ REVIEWING HIS CAREER- 34 . 

on the throne of the British empire — wield its vast des- 
tinies, control its amazing energies, and after years of 
experience die in peace and power, leaving a flourishing 
commonwealth to his successor — must possess a grasp 
of thought and power seldom found in a single soul. 

There is no difficulty in analyzing the career of Crom- 
well. Divided into two parts, military and civil, it 
exhibits his character and motives clear as noonday. 
He commenced as captain of a troop, and gradually 
fought his way up to commmander-in-chief of the army. 
vVith a tenacity of will that nothing could shake, 
and courage that nothing could resist ; simple and frank 
in his manners, given to no excesses, and claiming 
no share of the plunder, he soon gained such influence 
over the soldiers, that they would follow him into any 
danger. In short, the success which attended all his 
efforts made him necessary to the army ; so that after 
the self-denying ordinance was passed, he was retained 
by special command, month after month, until finally no 
one thought of removing him. 

With perfect command over himself and his followers 
in the heat of battle — carried away by no victory — be- 
guiled into no pursuit ; he always stopped at the right 
place, and with wonderful self-possession and skill, rallied 
his men and poured them afresh on the enemy. The 
severe discipline, to which he subjected his soldiers, 
placed them at his control in the midst of the wildest 
confusion. This, doubtless, was one great cause of his 
success. 

His civil and political life, up to the battle of Wor- 



3 12 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

cester, was more or less merged into that of others, and 
was also simply a struggle against the oppression and 
injustice of those in power. Almost constantly in the 
field, all his attention and thought were given to the 
army. 

But his battles are now over, and he turns and con- 
centrates all his power on civil matters, and hereafter 
we are to contemplate him solely as a statesman. 



CHAPTER XL 

PROM THE BATTLE OF WORCESTER TO THE PROTEC- 
TORATE — 1651 to 1653. 

Cromwell Moves that Parliament Fix a Day for Its Dissolution — The 
Rump Parliament — Cromwell's Course Defended — Death of Ireton 
— Malice of Cromwell's Biographers — Navigation Act — War with 
the Dutch — Victories of Blake — Attempt of Parliament to Crush the 
Army and Cromwell — Treachery of Members — Dispersion of Par- 
liament by Cromwell and His Musketeers — Defence of the Measure 
— Barebones' Parliament — Its Extraordinary Character — Dissolves 
Itself — The Dutch Sue for Peace — Cromwell Proclaimed Lord 
Protector. 

From the battle of Worcester, to the dissolution of 
the rump parliament, April, 1653, Cromwell's part in 
the history of the commonwealth, lies obscure. One 
of his first steps, on taking his seat in the House of 
Commons, was to move that the act of oblivion to po- 
litical offenders, long since proposed, should become a 
law; and accordingly, an amnesty was granted to 
all previous to 1648. But many of those taken in 
the last victory, and among them Count Derby, were 
executed.* He next moved, that parliament should fix 
a day for its own dissolution ; which, after much severe 
debate, it was decided should be the 13th of Novem* 
ber, 1654, or tfrree years fromthat time. 

* Vide Carlyle. 



344 OLIVER CROMWELI 

This parliament, which had received the nick-names 
of "fag-end," and "rump parliament," from its being 
composed of the remnants of the long parliament, was 
looked upon with general dissatisfaction. Reduced to 
a hundred, or a hundred and twenty-one members, not 
even half of whom took any part in its business, it 
constituted a government wholly unequal to the exi- 
gencies of the times, though it numbered among its 
members some extraordinary men — such as the younger 
Vane and Henry Marten. Yet, they were not strictly 
the representatives of the people — they were a sort of 
provisional government, whose existence and power 
were needed only while immediate danger threatened 
the Commonwealth. But, as that danger was now over, 
the first thought of every man was — and prudence dic- 
tated that it should be — a new and fair representation 
of the kingdom, to decide in general congress, on what 
principles the government and nation should be settled. 
Cromwell, with his usual sagacity, saw that nothing else 
would do ; and hence, he moved that immediate action 
be taken on the subject — hoping that a parliament which 
ad made itself so renowned abroad, and so terrible at 
hosie, would name an early day for its dissolution. In 
this he was disappointed, as he was doomed to be in 
every measure he brought forward to prevent evil, 
which none but himself seemed able to foresee. He 
would have saved the former parliament, by inducing 
it to be just to the army ; and the kingdom from anar- 
chy, by prevailing on the king to be reasonable ; and 
had failed in both : and now. the first use he made of 



1651.] RUMP PARLIAMENT. 345 

his great influence was, to urge a measure which, if it 
had been properly carried out, would have erected an 
effectual barrier against his ascent to supreme pow- 
er : — yet, strange as it may seem, this has been ad- 
duced as another proof of his insincerity. Nothing 
was plainer to him than that this parliament would 
never do for England ; and he wished to supply a sub- 
stitute, before the wants of the kingdom, and the whole 
people, should call on him to be that substitute. If, 
therefore, he had opposed, instead of introduced, this 
motion, there would have been good ground for suspi- 
cion of secret ambition. 

Rut the rump parliament had become intoxicated 
with the love of power, and resolved to exercise it at 
least three years longer ; and Oliver looked sadly on, to 
see what would come of it glad — his enemies, destitute 
alike of honor and truth, say — because it would more 
effectually disgrace itself in the eyes of the nation. Like 
the wolf in the fable, they will have him in the wrong 
at any rate. If he had proposed that the parliament 
should sit indefinitely, they would have declared it re- 
vealed the ambitious hypocrite, who wished its rottenness 
and inefficiency to become so apparent, that the people 
would gladly have it broken up, even at the pike's point. 
But he was the first to propose a dissolution ; and they 
now assert, that he neither hoped nor expected it to 
take place. Do what he will, there is some selfish de- 
sign lurking at the bottom, which it is the duty of the 
historian to guess at, and then declare his guess to be a 

fact. It he does nothing, or is away, the same sinister 
15* 



3 10 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

design is the cause of his silence or absence. There U 
one consolation, however — his most venomous foes have 
not dared to assail his private character, if we except 
Voltaire, whose effort has only brought contempt on 
himself. 

The next month (the 8th of December) the noble 
Ireton died in Ireland. Carrying out the plan of his 
father-in-law, he rapidly subjugated the whole island; but, 
on the reduction of Limerick, he w r as seized with inflam- 
matory fever, and after an illness of ten days, rested 
from his severe labors. This blow fell heavily on 
Cromwell, who tenderly loved his upright, high-minded, 
and gallant son-in-law. He had stood shoulder to 
shoulder with him in the hard-fought battle, and wit- 
nessed his integrity in the hall of council ; and with 
more than ordinary pride, given him his daughter for a 
bride. A pure patriot — incorruptible, fearless, and reso- 
lute, he was a strong man in those perilous times, and a 
firm support to Cromwell. It is true, as old White- 
locke says, " he was very stiff in his ways and pur- 
poses ;" and, probably, had more influence over his 
father-in-law, than any other man. He had all his iron 
will ; and wielded the pen as well as the sword. Bred a 
lawyer, he understood better than most of the repub- 
lican leaders, the affairs of state, and "was exceedingly 
forward as to the business of the Commonwealth." 

After the battle of Worcester, parliament voted not 
only £4000 per annum to Cromwell, but also £2000 to 
Ireton, and other sums to Monk, Whalley, Okey, and 
Alured. Ireton was the only man who refused to re- 



1851.] HIS TRADUCERS. 34? 

ceive his portion. A stern republican he looked with 
Spartan contempt on the pomp and luxuries with which 
others were pleased, and wrote to parliament that " he 
did not wish their gifts, that they had many just debts, 
which he desired they would pay before they made any 
such presents ; that he had no need of their land, and, 
therefore, would not have it ; and should be better 
pleased to see them doing the service of the nation 
than so liberal in disposing of the public treasure/'* 
Every one is compelled to acknowledge the purity of 
Ireton's intentions, and his integrity of character. But 
he clung faithfully to Cromwell ; and so his enemies un- 
blushingly declare, without the shadow of proof, that if 
he had lived he would have opposed his ambitious 
father-in-law. To perfect this singular logic, they go 
a step farther, and assert that Cromwell was glad to 
hear of his son-in-law's death. Making their own 
mean suspicions the basis of their argument, they draw 
conclusions more dishonorable to themselves than to 
the man they would traduce. Yet Villemain puts it 
down as a fact, and even Forster has incorporated it in 
his " Statesmen of the Commonwealth of England. " If 
the latter had paused a moment to think, he could not 
have been guilty of an act of such base injustice. To 
accuse a father, and such a father as Cromwell, of re- 
joicing that a son-in-law, who had ever been true as 
steel to his fortunes — the bravest heart of all that sur- 
rounded him — was dead, even though it broke his 
daughter's l'eart, because there was a chance that he 

* Vide Ludlow's Memoirs. 



348 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

might, at some future time, stand in the way of hit 
ambition, is one of the meanest and falsest accusations 
that unblushing hatred ever uttered. When malice or 
prejudice can descend so low, we are not surprised to 
find one man* who boldly charges Cromwell with being 
a coward. A more affectionate parent than he never 
lived — all his letters breathe the fondest love. From 
the perilous edge of battle — in the midst of the weary 
march, or bustle of preparation — from the field of the 
dead, he wrote to his wife and children, inquiring after 
all their little household affairs, and caring for all their 
troubles, as if the welfare of a nation were not resting 
on his heart. 

Ireton's body was brought over from Ireland, and the 
most imposing ceremonies decreed in its honor. Lam- 
bert was appointed lord-deputy in his place, but did not 
go — rumor said, because Widow Ireton did not wish to 
give place to the handsome Lady Lambert, her rival. 
Fleetwood was finally sent, and being a widower, in 
process of time married the former. 

While Cromwell was endeavoring to make parlia- 
ment settle on some plan for . le future government of 
the nation — assembling, again and again, the principal 
statesmen to discuss the question at his house, and giving 
as his own fixed opinion, that one with something of a 
monarchical power in it was to be preferred — the 
government had got into difficulty with the Dutch. 
Scotland, and Ireland, and the islands of Scilly, Jersey, 
&c. ; which formerly caused so much trouble, had been 
* Crawford, who is defended by Holies. 



1651.] WAR WITH THE DUTCH. 349 

reduced to submission, while Portugal, alarmed at the 
danger it had provoked by sheltering Prince Rupert, 
had acknowledged its error, and promised amendment. 
But the United Provinces, which had always sympa- 
thized with the royal family, and protected its members, 
now jealous of the growing power of a sister republic, 
hesitated not to commit aggressive acts. Dr. Dorislaus, 
formerly sent out as ambassador, had been assassinated 
and no satisfaction given. Oliver St. John went next, 
to propose a settlement of difficulties, but was treated 
with so much insult that he returned indignant, and im- 
mediately set on foot measures of retaliation, and caused 
the celebrated Navigation Act, prohibiting the importa- 
tion of goods into England, except in English vessels, 
to be passed.* Holland claimed supremacy of the seas, 
and made immense profits in the carrying trade at 
which this Act struck a death-blow. Hence, when it 
was received there, "it changed," says a quaint writer of 
that period, " the constitution of that people from a 
phlegmatic to a perfect sanguine complexion." Nego- 
tiations followed, but were broken off by the com- 
mencement of hostilities at sea. Van Tromp, at the 
head of the Dutch fleet, and Blake, the English admiral — 
who, though he did not begin his military life' till fifty 
years of age, was now the first naval officer in the 
world — came in collision, at Dover, about a mere matter 
of etiquette, and after a fierce fight parted — the Dutch 
having much the worst of it. 

Sir George Asycough, also, with forty ships, attacked 

* October 9th, 1G51 



350 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

the famous De Ruyter with fifty, but after a severe en« 
gagement was compelled to let his antagonist, with his 
convoy of merchantmen, go his way. In October, 
another battle was fought, between Blake and Tromp, 
on the coast of Kent, in which the Dutch were roughly 
handled. The next month, however, Blake was sadly 
beaten by his antagonist, who had been re-inforced with 
De Ruyter 's fleet. Tromp was so elated by the victory, 
that he nailed a broom to his mast, to intimate that he 
would sweep the English fleet from the sea. But in 
February of the next year, Blake, with a fleet of eighty 
sail, assisted by Dean and Monk — who having finished 
their fighting on land had been tranferred to the sea — ■ 
came up with the Dutch fleet of seventy-six sail off 
Portland, and immediately engaged it. The battle 
lasted three days, during which time there were such a 
cannonading and uproar as are seldom heard on the 
deep. Nearly 2000 men were slain on either side, and 
1500 Dutch prisoners taken. The English claimed the 
victory; though Tromp made a skilful retreat, and 
saved most of his ships. 

From this time onward, fortune constantly declared 
against the Dutch : their merchantmen were captured ; 
their commerce destroyed ; their pride humbled ; and 
they at last compelled to sue for peace. 

In the meantime, events were hastening to a crisis in 
parliament. Every day it separated farther and farther 
from Cromwell, until, at length, they occupied the ground 
of direct hostility to each other. The former like their 
predecessors the Presbyterians, resolved to get rid of the 



1652.] PETITION OF OFFICERS. 351 

army, so that they might safely attack Crcrrwell; and 
hence introduced resolutions for its reduction. The lat- 
ter, however, easily penetrated their designs, and resolved 
to thwart them — peacefully, if he could, by persuasion 
ana argument — and for this purpose held conference 
after conference with the leading members. These pro- 
ducing no effect, a petition was presented from the offi- 
cers of the army, praying, first, that measures might be 
taken for the propagation of the gospel, and encourage- 
ment of godly ministers. 2d. That the administration 
of the law might be regulated, so that justice could be 
secured. 3d. That profane and unworthy persons be 
removed from places of trust. 4th. That the abuses of 
the excise be corrected. 5th. That those who had loaned 
money on the public faith be paid. 6th and 7th. That 
the soldiers might be paid their arrears, and the treaties 
made with the enemy fulfilled. 8th. That the yearly 
revenues of the State should be placed in the treasuiy, 
and a yearly report rendered. The 9th specification 
struck at monopolies, pluralities, &c. The 10th, at 
public beggary, and vagabondism in general. The 
12th, and the last, had reference to a new parliament 
and the manner of electing it. This petition was 
referred to a committee, and then the bill for the 
dissolution of parliament came up. 

This was in the autumn of 1652 ; and soon after (in 
November), a conversation is reported by Whitelocke 
to have occurred between him and Cromwell, in St. 
James's Park, in which the latter openly hinted at mak 
ing himself king. Most writers of this period, give this 



352 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

dialogue in full; but it seems strange any r ease liable 
man can put faith in its correctness. It was written after 
the restoration, when the memory of this weak-headed, 
supple, and fawning minister, might well forget, or add, 
in order to escape punishment from Charles II. He makes 
out that he himself strongly urged on Cromwell to call 
Charles II. to the throne — a thing, he would as soon 
have cut off his head as done, if he suspected, as he 
affirms he did, the ambitious designs of the lord-general. 
If anything were wanting to render the whole dialogue 
ridiculous, it is the assertion that Cromwell, after 
this, treated him coolly, because he was afraid of 
his opposition. Cromwell afraid of Whitelocke ! Poor 
Bulstrode must have reckoned largely on Charles Stu- 
art's simplicity, to have supposed he would swallow this. 
Oliver had, also, frequent consultations with his offi- 
cers, respecting the course they should take ; and, in 
the opening of the spring of 1653, it became evident 
that the result of the generalship of the two parties, 
would soon be made known. A bill had been intro- 
duced into A irliament, settling the basis of a new re- 
presentation — one clause of which made the Rump 
Parliament a part of the new. But, Oliver saw with 
his far-searching glance, that clean work must be made, 
and this war of factions ended ; and so he opposed the 
bill. There were other features in it equally ob- 
noxious ;* at all events, there is sufficient evidence that 
it was not intended to secure the welfare of England, 
but the overthrow of Cromwell. For three years they 
* The bill was never preserved. 



1653.] BREADS UP PARLIAMENT. 353 

had been urged, in vain, to fix the day of their own 
dissolution, and settle the mode of representation ; and 
now, all at once, they wished to hurry the bill through 
by stealth. 

Cromwell has been accused of trickery and hypoc- 
risy here ; but, will those who do so, tell us what they 
think of the actions of parliament ? Forster's long and 
explicit account of the causes leading to the breaking up 
of the Rump Parliament, is unworthy of credit ; for he 
starts with the basis, that parliament was right and 
Cromwell wrong throughout ; and hence, believes every 
word of his enemies, and denies the truth of all his de- 
clarations, unless they can be tortured into evidence 
against him. 

BREAKING UP OF THE RUMP PARLIAMENT. 

On the 19th of April, 1653, Cromwell held, in his 
house in Whitehall, his last conference with the mem 
bers respecting the new bill under consideration. 
About twenty were present ; and after long consulta- 
tion, parted without having agreed upon anything; 
They promised, however, to meet him again, next 
morning, and consult farther. At the time appointed, 
he repaired to the reception-room, and waited their 
arrival. But not one of them came ; though messenger 
after messenger arrived in breathless haste, announcing 
that the bill was being hurried through parliament, and 
would soon become a law. He could hardly believe it 
possible that those twenty membe s, constituting nearly 



354 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

half of the House,* had deliberately lied to him, and were 
resolved, by treachery and fraud, to carry their measures. 
It was a dangerous experiment to endeavor to sprmg a 
mine under Cromwell. Kings, parliaments, and ar- 
mies, had ever found it so ; and it must go hard if this 
little Rump Parliament could venture safely upon it. 

No sooner was he convinced the news was true, than 
he started for the House, taking Harrison, with a trusty 
company of soldiers, with him. Placing one portion oi 
them at the door, another in the lobby, and about 
twenty or thirty, just without the chamber, he entered 
the House, and after pausing a moment on the thresh- 
hold and surveying the members, advanced and took his 
seat. At this time, his hair was sprinkled with grey ; 
which, together with the plain black clothes he wore, gave 
a venerable appearance to his countenance. Vane was 
speaking when he entered, urging, with all the eloquence 
he was master of, the necessity of immediate action on 
the bill. Cromwell listened with the deepest attention, 
until he closed his appeal ; and then, as the Speaker was 
about to put the question, arose to reply. Calm and re- 
spectful, at first, he alluded to the great work that had 
been done, and gave them all honor for the part they 
had borne in it ; but waxing warm as he proceeded, he 
began to speak also of their injustice, delays, strifes, and 
petty ambitions ; hurling fiercely accusation after accu- 
sation, in their faces, till Wentworth rose, and making 
his voice heard, rebuked him for his language. " Come. 
<jome," broke forth Cromwell, " we have had enough of 

* It consisted of fifty-three members on this daj , 



1G53.] RUMP PARLIAMENT VANISHES. 355 

this. I will put an end to your prating." He had now 
fairly got on his battle face, and his large grey eyes 
seemed to emit fire, as he strode fortn on the floor of 
the House; and clapping his hat on his head, and 
stamping the floor with his feet, poured forth a torrent 
of invective on the now thoroughly- alarmed parliament. 
That speech is lost ; but it scathed like fire. " You," 
said he to Vane, who interrupted him, " might have pre- 
vented this, but you are a juggler, and have not so much 
as common honesty. You are no parliament. I say, 
you are no parliament. You have sat too long already ; 
you shall now give place to better men ;" and turning 
to his officer, Harrison, he gave a brief word of com- 
mand, as he would on the field of battle ; and his brave 
musketeers, with shouldered pieces, marched sternly in. 
As he stood amid the weapons that had so often sur- 
rounded him on the field of death, he began to launch 
his thunderbolts on the right hand and on the left ; and 
breaking over all ceremonies of speech, boldly named 
the crimes of which they were guilty ; and closed up 
with " Corrupt, unjust persons ; scandalous to the pro- 
fession of the gospel. How can you be a parliament for 
God's people ? Depart, I say, and let us have done with 
your And they went in hot haste, scourged by his 
tongue, as they fled. '• You," said he to Chaloner, " are 
a drunkard." " You, Wentworth, an adulterer ;" and 
as Marten passed, he asked, if a whore-master was fit 
to govern. To Vane, who continued to remonstrate, 
he exclaimed, " Sir Harry Vane, Sir Harry Vane ! 
The Lord deliver me from. Sir Harry Vane /" Then, 



35G OLIVER JftOMWELL. 

pointing to the Speaker, Lenthall, who still retained hia 
seat, he bid Harrison help him down ; which he did. 
After all had departed, he took up the mace, and, look- 
ing at it a moment, said to the soldiers, " Take away 
this bauble." He then tore the bill of dissolution, which 
had been under discussion, to pieces ; and ordering the 
doors to be locked, turned away in the midst of his 
guard, and repaired again to Whitehall. 

Thus ended the rump parliament ; and England lay 
on Cromwell's shoulders. So did Bonaparte march 
into the council of five hundred, with his brave grena- 
diers at his back. 

But no sooner was this summary dissolution effected, 
than Cromwell was heard to say, "Its you who have 
forced me to this. I have sought the Lord, night and 
day, that he would rather slay me, than put me upon 
the doing of this work." But it was done ; and when 
the first gust of passion had passed, he was himself again, 
and look the government on his brave heart as calmly, 
as if he were born a king. 

This dissolution of parliament is called a des- 
potic and tyrannical act ; and so it was. But, will an\ 
one tell us what, other alternative was left. To sup- 
pose that argument and reason would triumph in that 
strife of factions and chaos of sentiments is absurd. 
The truth is, England needed some strong hand to 
steady her, and Cromwell's alone could do it. Power 
was needed to overawe the imbecile and ambitious 
spirits that were too ignorant to rule, and too selfish to 
be united. His measures were high-handed; but we 



lf>51.] DEFENCE OF HIS CONDUCT 35? 

cannot see what else could have been done, unless a 
Stuart lad been called in. Besides, he must either con- 
sent to have all that for which he had periled his life, and 
struggled so long to save, thrown away by ambitious men, 
or resort to violence. The parliament pushed him to this 
point, by compelling him to act suddenly, or be tricked 
out of what he deemed to be essential to the welfare of 
the country. He had saved the nation again and 
again — indeed, not only laid the corner-stone, but the 
topmost block, of that glorious structure of liberty ; and 
it was " not right, not honest," to endeavor to trample 
him and the army into the dust. Moreover, the people 
(the entire mind of the nation) wanted something per- 
manent, around which it could settle. The Rump Par- 
liament imparted no confidence, and gave no security. 
Cromwell was the only man in England that could 
keep the revolution from going backward. 

In great revolutions, the supreme power must finally 
always be lodged in the army, of which the successful 
leader is the representative. The strong arm of power 
is needed to mould the confused elements into form and 
permanent shape — discussion and conventions never, 
or seldom, can do it. True, Cromwell's course was 
despotic; but the cause of freedom, and the ends of 
justice, demanded it. There is a difference between 
the despotic act that crushes liberty, and the one that 
quells lawless violence. The forms of justice must 
sometimes be disregarded to save its spirit. 

At all events, there was no outcry against this act. 
The English people, who had not failed to speak ou* 



3f)R OLIVER CROMWELL. 

boldly and plainly in every instance of arbitrary power 
let this pass in silence, or spo^e only to sanction it. 
The army and navy sent in their declarations that they 
would stand or fall by Cromwell ; and all over the king- 
dom there were thanksgivings and rejoicings. We 
want no more conclusive evidence, that he acted in 
accordance with the wishes of the nation. 

Yet, writers treat the matter as if this parliament 
was the real legitimate power of the realm, which he 
found standing in the way of his ambition ; and so, in 
a haughty spirit of tyranny, trampled it down. It had 
the form of legality, and that was all — its continuance, 
while reduced to a few men, and against the interests 
and will of the nation, was, in fact, an usurpation. 
Not over forty men ruled England, who, hiding them- 
selves under the name of parliament, because there was 
no authority but their own to dissolve them, usurped 
power to which they had no claim. After the king's 
death, instead of referring the government to the people, 
they assumed the supreme power, and created high 
courts of justice, and levied taxes without the consent of 
the nation — in short, constituted themselves an irre- 
sponsible oligarchy, and were bent on perpetuating theii 
rule. Was there to be no end to this ? or, could ten, 
or, perhaps, five men, constitute a parliament of Eng- 
land ? We imagine that Cromwell's friends viewed the 
affair in a very different light from those who condemn 
him so unqualifiedly. Charles knew that the parliament 
he attempted to destroy, was the true and honest repre- 
sentative of England — Cromwell knew that the one he 



1(553. J HIS LETTER TO THE SCOTCH. 359 

exterminated, was not. Charles believed that the people 
would regard it as an outrage on themselves — Cromwell, 
that his act would meet with universal approbation: 
Charles's despotic act, was for the sole purpose of assert- 
ing his royal prerogatives — Cromwell's, to save England. 
It is laughable to hear those who declaim loudest 
against the death of the king as unconstitutional, pro- 
nounce Cromwell a despot for breaking up the parlia- 
ment that created the very court which tried him. 
When this parliament condemns Charles, it is unworthy 
of respect — but when Oliver breaks it up, it is a noble, 
legislative body. 

The same day on which he dissolved parliament, 
Le took Lambert and Harrison with him, and pro- 
ceeded to the council of State, (of which Bradshaw 
was still president,) and entering the chamber where 
they sat, said, " Gentlemen, if you are met here as 
private persons, } r ou shall not be disturbed ; but if, as a 
council of State, this is no place for you ; and since 
you can't but know what was done at the House this 
morning, so take notice that the parliament is dis- 
solved." Bradshaw replied, "We have heard what 
you did at the House in the morning ; and before many 
hours, all England will hear it. But, you are mis- 
taken to think that the parliament is dissolved; for no 
power under heaven can dissolve them, but themselves : 
therefore, take notice of that."* But they went with 
parliament ; and a new council of State, composed of 

* Vide Ludlow's Memoirs. 



3G0 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

thirteen,* was formed, of which Cromwell was a mem- 
ber. 

The next morning, the Mercurius Politicus, a gov- 
ernment paper, with that prudence and caution which 
distinguishes government papers generally, had the fol- 
lowing short and business-like notice of one of the most 
momentous events that ever occurred in England: 
" April 20th — The lord-general declared yesterday, in 
parliament, divers reasons whereof a present period 
should be put to the sitting of this parliament ; and it 
was accordingly done, the Speaker and members all de- 
parting — the grounds of which proceeding will (it's pro- 
bable) shortly be made public. "f During the night, 
some one put the following placard on the door of the 
House of Commons, " This house to let, unfurnished." % 

A declaration appeared in a few days, giving the 
reasons of the dissolution ; but, if any one wishes to be 
convinced of the purity of Cromwell's motives, and the 
integrity in which he performed this arbitrary act, let 
him read the account of it in his speech before the par- 
liament he soon after summoned. It is impossible for a 
candid mind to peruse this carefully, without feeling, 
however his reason may object, that he acted sincerely. 
Truth is stamped on every line df it ; and though using 
no eloquence, he speaks from the heart, and " straight 
on," unburdening himself laboriously, yet fully. § 

The summons which was issued six weeks after, to 

* This number was preferred, because Christ and His apostles mada 
thirteen. 
t Vide Godwin % Foster's Statesmen § Vide Appendix, No. V 



1653.] LITTLE PARLIAMENT. 361 

convoke the new parliament, was made out in the name 
of Cromviell alone, and sent to a hundred and forty 
persons, all of whom, with the exception of two, 
answered to the call, and assembled on the 4th of July, 
in the council chamber of Whitehall. This parlia- 
ment, called the Barebones Parliament,* from the name 

*"It would be scarcely necessary to refer to the numberless vulga* 
slanders and ridiculous fictions that have sprung out of this notorious 
name, but that it too well expresses the spirit in which the history of 
these times has (until of late) been written, to be altogether omitted. 
For example, one historian talks of 'Praise-God Barebone' having 
had two brothers, the Christian name of the first of whom was Christ- 
came-into-the-world-to-save ; and of the second, If- Christ -had-not 
died-thou-had st-been-damned . He introduces his anecdote with the 
suspicious words, ' I have been informed that there were three bro- 
thers ;' and adds, that ' some people, tired of the long name of the 
younger brother, are said to have omitted the former part of the sen- 
tence, and to have called him familiarly Damned Barebone.' Another 
writer, according to Mr. Goodwin, the Reverend James Brome, in a 
book of Travels over England, Scotland, and Wales, second edition, 
1707, has endeavored to render the satire more complete, by giving 
the names of a 'jury returned in the county of Sussex, in the late re- 
bellious, troublesome times, as follows (p. 279): Accepted Trevor, of 
Norsham ; Redeemed Compton, of Battel ; Faint-not Hewit, of Heath- 
field ; Make-peace Heaton, of Hare ; God-reward Smart, of Tisehurst; 
Stand-fast-on-high Stringer, of Crowhurst ; Earth Adams, of Warble- 
ton ; Called Lower, of the same ; Kill-sin Pimple, of Witham ; Re- 
turn Spelman, of Watling ; Be-faithful Joiner, of Britling ; Fly- 
debate Roberts, of the same ; Fight-the-good-fight-of -faith White, of 
Emer ; More-fruit Fowler, of East Hodley; Hope-for Bending, of 
the same ; Graceful Harding, of Lewes ; Weep-not Billing, of the 
same ; Meek Brewer, of Okeham.' It is really scarcely credible that 
this list should have been copied into Hume's History of England : 
so it is, however, and Dr. Zachary Grey had previously given it the 
authority of his name, if his name had been capable of bearing author 
16 



802 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

of one of the members from London, "Praise God Bar- 
bones,''' was, certainly, a most extraordinary collection 
of men. The grounds on which they were selected, 
and the characters they bore, should for ever shield 
Cromwell from the charge of being governed, in all 
his acts, by selfish ambition. They prove, conclusively, 
our statement, that he was deceived respecting the gov 
ernment that might be adopted. He verily believed 
he was to restore the Israelitish theocracy, and that the 
reign of the saints was to begin on earth ; and so did 
half of England. The members were selected from 
those named, at request of the council, by the congre 
gational churches in the different counties. These 
churches were directed to return persons " faithful 
loving truth, fearing God, and hating covetousness ;'' 
and also qualified for the management of affairs of State 
Never before did such a body of men assemble in the 
form of parliament. Able statesmen there were among 
them ; but the greater part had evidently more religious 
enthusaism, than knowledge of civil matters, or taste 
for them. 

Cromwell's opening address was a justification of 
the course he had taken, and all the reasons given, which 
will be found, as stated above, in the Appendix; and 
though lengthy, will amply repay the perusal. 

Having finished his address, which occupied mora 
than an hour, he presented an instrument by which the 

ity in matters which involved hatred to the Puritans. Unblinded by 
such hatred, these men would have been the first to see that this no 
table list was a mere piece of of mauvaise phiasantcrie." Vide British 
Statesmen, page 53S. Neal also quotes this seriously. 



] 053.] LITTLE PARLIAMENT. 303 

government was surrendered to parliament till the 3d of 
Nov., 1654. Three months previous to their dissolu- 
tion, they were to choose persons to succeed them, who 
should occupy their place and authority for one year, 
and settle what the succeeding government should be. 
lie thus formally resigned all power — not even reserving 
to himself a seat in their councils. He knew nothing 
or scarcely nothing, personally of these members, and 
had no claims upon them. They were in no way crea- 
tures of his to whom he thus intrusted the power he is ac- 
cused of tyranically swaying. He knew them only to be 
God-fearing men, full of sincerity, and of incorruptible 
integrity. Will his enemies tell us why he gathered such 
a. body of men together, or what use he expected to 
make of them in advancing his deep and dark designs ? 
One would think he would have chosen more manage- 
able tools, and placed about him those whom he knew, and 
who were sworn to his interests. An ambitious tyrant 
never selects those to co-operate with him whom he 
knows no bribery can corrupt, no threatenings awe. and 
no selfish motives turn from their integrity. Though 
many of them were of low origin, and fanatical in their 
views, they were straightforward and true — fearing 
nothing but the displeasure of God, and capable of 
being governed only by honest dealing. There were a 
few exceptions, but such was the character of the 
majority of this Barebones Parliament. 

The next morning after Cromwell's address, the}' 
met, and spent the whole day, from eight till seven in 
the evening, in prayer and exhortation — a strange me- 



364 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

thod for a parliament to adopt, and yet vastly better 
than that adopted by most of our legislatures of the 
present day to kill time. Having chosen Francis 
Rouse, provost of Eton, and famous for his revision of 
the Psalms, Speaker, they adjourned. The next day, 
they proceeded to business. A new council of State 
was soon after formed — or rather, eighteen members 
were added to the original thirteen, making, in all 
thirty-one. The day following this important move- 
ment, was spent in prayer and exhortation ; and it was 
the custom every morning to open a prayer-meeting as 
soon as ten or a dozen members arrived, and keep it up 
until a quorum was assembled. Truly, they were 
'' men fearing God." An address to the people of 
England was voted, filled with noble sentiments, and 
high Christian hopes that the day of the complete 
triumph of religion had come, and the " glory of the 
Lord was about to be revealed." 

We will not specify all the acts of this extraordinary 
parliament ; the most important were, one to abolish 
tithes ; another, to provide for the support of a godly 
ministry ; and a third, to do away with the Court of 
Chancery, in which some 23000 causes lay locked up. 

At length, on the 2d of December a motion was 
made to appoint a travelling commission of Puritans to 
clear the church of all base and heretical ministers. 
The debate on this waxed high, and continued till the 
10th, when parliament adjourned over to Monday. 
On Monday morning early, before all had arrived, a mo- 
ion was made and carried tthat the parliament should 



1653.] INCONSISTENCY. 365 

be dissolved. The Speaker, preceded by the mace and 
accompanied by his friends, then walked to Whitehall and 
formally surrendered to Cromwell the power with which 
he had been entrusted. The latter was surprised and 
deeply moved at this sudden result : — his enemies, how- 
ever, say his emotion was entirely feigned, and that it 
was his work throughout. If he had shown signs of 
joy, it would have revealed his part in the matter — as 
he exhibited regret, it also proved his inward delight — 
at least it must have been so, as he was a hypocrite, 
and managing all the while after supreme power. 
What a prophetic mind he must have possessed, and 
how clear to him all the dark future, from the outset, 
have appeared. He trifled with the king, designing 
to overthrow him — he purged parliament, and brought 
Charles to trial, while fighting furiously at Preston — 
exposed his life in Ireland, knowing he should succeed — 
returned from the conquest of Scotland, perfectly con- 
scious that the Long Parliament would endeavor to be 
permanent — endeavored to end it peacefully, so that he 
could, with the more plausibility, break it up forcibly — 
summoned a new one, and all strangers and honest 
men, on purpose to have them prove their imbecility — 
put them under obi gations to sit a year, and before 
they should separate provide for a new representation, 
because he wished to have them disperse without doing 
it — made plans, on purpose to have them baffled, and 
rejoiced in any change of events, because he had cal- 
culated them accurately — and eventually, in this tor- 
tuous way, reached the goal towards which he had eve <A 



366 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

struggled, viz., supreme power. A man with sucK 
superhuman foresight, one would think, might arrive at 
his purpose in an easier and more direct manner. No 
greater illustration of human reason clouded and stulti- 
fied by malice and prejudice, can be given, than a clear 
statement of the facts of the revolution placed beside 
the explanation of Cromwell's conduct by his enemies. 

This Barebones Parliament sat a little over five 
months ; and though it did not accomplish much; events 
from without conspired to give it a prominence abroad. 
The war with the Dutch was prosecuted with vigor and 
astonishing success. Blake and Monk rode triumph- 
antly on the ocean. The great victory over the Dutch, 
mentioned some pages back, brought commissioners to 
England, who asked for a cessation of hostilities, while 
negotiations could be carried on. Oliver received 
them haughtily, and refused to grant their request — 
nay, insisted on all the conditions formerly demanded 
by St. John. 

At length, however, a compromise was made, and the 
commissioners took their leave. But just two days 
previous to their departure (on the 29th of July), ano- 
ther terrible battle had been fought between' the two 
fleets, near the coast of Holland. Monk carried his 
vessels into action, with the same desperation he was 
accustomed to lead his regiment to the breach. The 
fight lasted several days ; but the Dutch fleet was finally 
dispersed, and Van Tromp slain. Monk and Blake 
were loaded with lienors; and Cromwell, at a putlic 



653.] MADE LORD PROTECTOR. 367 

dinner given them on their return, hung chains cf gold, 
and medals of honor, about their necks. 

The next month (August), Whitelocke was despatched 
as ambassador-extraordinary, to her Christian majesty, 
Christina, the queen of Sweden. He was received 
with great honor, on account of the illustrious deeds of 
Oliver, whose stormy life, and great adventures, had 
filled her with admiration, which she took no pains to 
conceal. During the session of this parliament, also, 
Lilburn came back from his banishment, and was tried 
and acquitted. 

Thus, with her enemies at home humbled ; and tri- 
umphant on the deep, England needed only a steady 
government to rise to that rank, her people and posi- 
tion fitted her to take. 

The Little Parliament, having voluntarily surrendered 
to Cromwell its powers ; he, four days after its dispersion 
— having first consulted the Lord in prayer — proceed- 
ed with his friends, in great ceremony, to Westminster ; 
and there, in presence of the lord-mayor and aldermen 
of London, the two commissioners of the great seal, 
tne two councils of the State and army, was declared, 
" lord-protector of the Commonwealth of England, 
Ireland, and Scotland ;" and took the oath. It was an 
imposing ceremony. Cromwell was dressed in a plain 
suit of "black velvet, with cloak of the same ; and about 
his hat a broad band of ffold." "Does the reader see 
him? A rather likely figure, I think — stands some five 
feet ten, or more — a man of strong, solid stature, dignified 
mien, and portly military carriage — the expression of him, 



368 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

valor and devout intelligence, energv, ana delicacy, on 
a basis of simplicity. Fifty-four years old gone April 
last ; brown hair and moustaches are getting grey. A 
figure of sufficient impressiveness — not lovely to the 
man-milliner species, nor pretending to be so. Massive 
stature — big, massive head, of somewhat leonine aspect 
— wart above the right eyebrow — nose of considerable 
blunt-aquiline proportions — strict, yet copious lips, full 
of all tremulous sensibilities, and also, if need were, 
of all fierceness and rigor: deep, lowering eyes, (call 
them grave, call them stern,) looking from under those 
craggy brows, as if in life-long sorrow, and yet, not 
thinking it sorrow — thinking it only labor and endeavor : 
on the whole, a right, noble, lion-face and hero-face, and 
to me royal enough."* 

" The instrument of government," by which he was 
to be guided, contained forty-two articles, and was read 
by Lambert. This new constitution for England, pro- 
vided, first, that " the supreme legislative authority, 
should be in one person and the people in parliament 
represented ; and that person be Lord-Protector." He 
was to be assisted by a council of State, consisting of 
not more than twenty-one, and not less than thirteen, 
persons. He was to have control of all the land and 
sea forces, grant commissions, bestow honors, &c, &c 
He could not repeal, or alter any law, without the 
sanction of parliament, which should be assembled at 
least once in three years, and sit five months. Thia 
parliament was to be composed of four hundred mem 
* Vide Carlyle, vol. ii., page 65. 



1653.] THE PROTECTORATE. 369 

bers ; and the representation to be proportioned as near 
as possible to the taxation. Ireland and Scotland were 
allowed, each, thirty. It was to assemble September, 
1654; and, in the interim, Cromwell and his council 
were to govern the State. When the result was an- 
nounced to the people, shouts of " Long live the Pro- 
tector !" rent the air ; and he drove back in great 
pomp to Whitehall 

16* 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE PROTECTORATE. 

From December, 1653, to the Second Protectorate Par lament, Sep 
tember, 1657 — Ordinances Issued by Cromwell — Henry Cromwell 
goes to Ireland — Character of the New Government — Peace Abroad 
— Respect Shown to the Protector — Sycophancy of Dr. South — 
Assembling of Parliament — Its Unjustifiable and Dangerous Proceed- 
ings — Noble Address of Cromwell — Submission of Parliament — Its 
Acts — Cromwell Thrown from His Carriage — Death of His Mother 
— The West Indian Expedition — Dissolution of Parliament — Crom- 
well's Arbitrary Course — The Major-Generals — Persecution of the 
Vaudois, and Noble Interference of Cromwell — Milton — Cromwell 
Champion of Protestantism — Assembling of the New Parliament. 

Between the 16th of December, 1653, and the 3d 
of December, 1654, when the new parliament was to 
assemble, Cromwell and his council had permission to 
pass such ordinances as they might deem beneficial-, 
and they made free use of it. Sixty were issued — the 
most important of which, in relation to civil matters, 
were those fixing the law of treason — arranging the 
revenue — providing for the union of the two kingdoms, 
Scotland and England — granting grace and oblivion to 
offenders — regulating the manner of choosing the Irish 
and Scotch members for the new parliament, and re- 
forming the chancery. 

But, there were two affecting the church, which 
ranked still higher — one, appointing, as grand commis- 



1654.] PLOTS AGAINST HIS LIFE. 371 

sioners, thirty-eight, to try public preachers ; and the 
other, instituting a similar commission in every county, 
for the ejection of " scandalous, ignorant, and inefficient 
ministers." The duties of the latter were distinctly 
marked out ; and they commenced their work of pur- 
gation in a way that evinced the purity of their in- 
tentions. This leading measure shows the drift of 
Cromwell's mind, to which we have frequently al- 
luded. 

But, at this time, he was treading on dangerous 
ground — he had before incurred the hatred of both Pres- 
byterians and royalists ; and now, the title of Lord-Pro- 
tector, drove away the more ardent republicans in the 
Independent party, who, hitherto, had clung faithfully 
to him. Harrison,* disappointed and angry, would not 
recognize his authority ; and was, therefore, stripped of 
his rank, and sent into the country, with the injunction 
to be quiet. Anabaptists and levellers conspiring to- 
gether, were arrested, and thrown into the Tower; — 
the command of the troops placed in the hands of those 
whom he could trust ; while Monk was sent to Scot- 
land, to quell the republican spirit in the army there. 
Henry Cromwell was ordered to Ireland, to superintend 
matters in that portion of the realm, and immediately 
imparted to every department of government a vigor 
to which it had long been a stranger. 

The royalists, in the meantime, laid plots to murder 
the Protector : Charles, II., from his secure exile in 

* This able, but visionary officer, has been sadly belied by histo- 
rians. 



372 OLIVER CROMWELL, 

Paris, issued a proclamation, offering a reward of £500 
per annum, a colonel's rank in the army, " and other re- 
wards suitable, to any one who would kill a certain base 
mechanical fellow, by name, Oliver Cromwell, who had, 
by most wicked and accursed means, traitorously 
usurped the throne :" but every attempt proved unsuc- 
cessful. The assassins were seized in their beds, and 
their plots divulged; for Cromwell had his spies and 
friends in every place. He comprehended the danger 
which surrounded him ; and stood prepared to meet it, 
in whatever shape it might come. On the very morn- 
ing the treaty with Portugal, which had been long 
under contemplation, was closed, the head of the am- 
bassador's brother, who had killed an Englishman in 
the streets, rolled on the scaffold. In this stern manner 
did he treat his enemies both at home and abroad, and 
gave the world to understand what kind of a govern- 
ment he designed to administer. France, frightened 
into respect, courted his favor. Envoys and ambas- 
sadors from almost every court of Europe, flocked to 
England ; and " all the kings of the earth prostrated 
themselves before this idol." 

His family — his aged mother, and beloved daughters, 
(Lady Claypole, Mary, and Frances,) were now removed 
to Whitehall ; and the Lord- Protector had a household 
about him that would not have disgraced any king.* 

*" Cromwell had nine children — seven of whom, three sons and four 
daughters, came to maturity. Frances was the youngest daughter 
and it was said that Charles II. wished to marry her, in order to re- 
cover his dominions ; and a proposal to that effect was made to Crom- 



1654.] HIS EULOGISTS. 373 

He treated foreign ambassadors like an emperor; and 
the most finished courtiers quailed before the stern 
glance of his eye. The perfect ease with which he 
assumed his lofty station, and took upon himself the 
cares of the nation, proves him to have possessed a 
great soul. No fear, restlessness, or doubt, agitated 
him — nay, he acted as if he at last had found the place 
for which nature had designed him. He surveyed the 
disordered kingdom about him, and the strong powers 
abroad, who had hitherto defied the Commonwealth, as 
composedly as he was wont to view a battle-field ; and 
laid his plans with a skill and clearness, and pushed 
them with a resolution which evince not only the states- 
man, but the great ruler. He would treat his old com- 
rades with his accustomed familiarity ; but turned 
haughtily to meet the reverence of a royal ambassador 
He declared he would make the name of Englishman 
as great abroad, " as ever that of a Roman had been ;" 
and he kept his word. He forced the Dutch into a 
treaty favorable to his own country, the consummation 
of which was announced by the firing of cannon, trum- 
pets, bonfires, and illuminations. The two universities of 
Cambridge and Oxford vied with each other in crowning 
him with laurels ; and such men as Doctors Cudvvorth, 
Owen, Zouch, Bathurst, Busby, and South,* sung his 

well, who rejected it, saying, ' No, it is impossible — he would never 
forgive me the death of his father.' He would sooner have married 
her to the meanest of his officers. 

* To illustrate the fickleness of human praise, and, at the same time, 
show how little trust can be placed in the testimony of even dis- 
tinguished men, who, in the restoration, sought the favor of court, we 



374 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

praise in Latin verse; and last of all, Milton addressed 
him in noble prose. Denmark and Sweden also sought 
his alliance ; and, at peace with the world, and honored 
at home, he, at once, placed England in the front rank of 
nations, and started her on that glorious career she has 
since run. 

Thus passed the months between his elevation and 
the meeting of parliament on the 3d of September, 

give the following extracts from Dr. South's eulogistic poem on the 
Protector, and not eulog'.stic sermon delivered before Charles II. To 
the Lord-Protector, he wrote : 

" Tu dux pariter terrae domitorq ; profundi 
Componant laudes cuncta elementa tuas, 
Cui mens alta subest, pelagoq ; profundior ipso 
Cujus fama sonat, quam procul unda sonat. 
* * * * 

Tu poteras solus motos componere fiuctus, 
Solus Neptunum sub tua vincla dare." 

And yet, this Cromwell, who was both " king and conqueror of the 
elements," " whose fame sounded far as the waves roared," and 
" who alone was able to control the sea, and put Neptune in chains," 
Dr. South afterwards, when preaching before Charles II., called a 
" beggarly fellow." " Who," said that zealous candidate for a bishop- 
rick, "that had beheld such a bankrupt, beggarly fellow as Crom- 
well, first entering the Parliament House, with a threadbare, torn 
coat, and a greasy hat (and, perhaps, neither of them paid for), could 
have suspected that, in the course of a few years, he should, by the 
murder of one king, and the banishment of another, ascend the throne, 
be invested in the royal robes, and want nothing of the state of a king, 
but the changing of his hat into a crown ?" " Odds fish, Lory!" ex- 
claimed the laughing Charles, when he heard this from the divine, 
who h panegyrized the living Lord-Protector — " Odds fish, man ! 
your chaplain must be a bishop. Put me in mind of him at the next 
vacancy." Oh, glorious times for the church ! Oh, golden age for the 
profligate and the slave !"-Vide Forster's British Statesmen wage 106. 



1654.] MEETING OF PARLIAMENT 375 

1654. The eventful day at length arrived, and more 
than three hundred assembled in the abbey of West- 
minster, and from thence proceeded to the House of 
Commons, where a message met them requesting their 
presence in the painted chamber. Thither they went, 
and, having assembled, were told by his highness, stand- 
ing uncovered on a pedestal, that, it being Sunday, he 
could not then address them, but would meet them 
next morning in the abbey-church of Westminster. 

That night, Cromwell must have felt some anxiety, as 
he thought of Haselrig, Scott, and others, whose faces 
had glowered on him from that assembly. 

At ten o'clock, next morning, however, he proceeded 
in great state to the church, where a sermon was to be 
delivered. Two troops of Life Guards marched in 
front, and a large procession of officers and gentlemen 
on horseback, richly apparelled but bare-headed, suc- 
ceeded—followed by pages and lackeys of the Protector, 
in rich liveries, who walked just in front of the State 
carriage. But all eyes were turned on Cromwell, as he 
approached — with Lambert in gorgeous costume, sitting 
by his side — dressed in a simple black suit, without 
ornament or show — " like a plain country gentle- 
man." 

After service, he proceeded to the painted chamber, 
and opened parliament- with a long speech. He com- 
menced by reminding them of the great trusts committed 
to their charge — referred to tne past, and spoke of both 
the outward and spiritual condition of the people — re- 
buked the Presbyterians, for fettering the consciences of 



376 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

men — enlarged against the Fifth Monarchy doctrine, and 
dwelt long on foreign affairs. He then went on to 
enumerate some of the reforms that had been made, 
and concluded with an urgent exhortation to act wisely 
and harmoniously, "to which end they would havt 
his prayers." 

The parliament chose Lenthall their Speaker, and ap 
pointed a day of fasting and prayer. This election 
was hotly contested, and foretold much trouble ahead. 

Many clear-headed statesmen were in this body — 
some of whom had been members of the Long Parlia- 
ment, and still smarted under the disgrace of their 
former ejection by Cromwell's pikes. 

The first question started by them was, " whether 
the House should acknowledge the government to be 
in the parliament and Single Person." This was 
discussed in committee of the whole, and the debate 
waxed fierce and high— lasting twelve hours. For four 
successive days a violent struggle was maintained by 
the two parties, without coming to a decision. Judge 
Matthew Hale went down to effect a compromise, to 
which parliament agreed ; but Cromwell hurled it from 
him with scorn, and sending for the Lord Mayor, 
ordered the Hall to be closed, and troops to be 
stationed in various places in the city. By eight 
o'clock on the twelfth day -of September, all was 
accomplished ; and when the members, one after another, 
arrived at the House, they were forbidden to enter and 
were informed that the Protector would meet them in 
the painted chamber. 



1654.] his speech. 377 



CROMWELL 3 SPEECH. 

Thither they repaired, and walked about in groups, 
discoursing on this sudden movement, until the Lord- 
Protector arrived. The two Houses at length being 
assembled and called to order, he arose and ad- 
dressed them, in a speech — the most remarkable, per- 
haps, that ever fell from his lips. His strong nature 
was thoroughly aroused, and he launched, at once, 
into the question. He was not, as formerly, the 
Christian brother talking with them as friend with 
friend ; nor the slumberous elephantine orator, rolling 
heavily on his way; but the Numidian lion, roused 
from his lair, and with flashing eyes confronting his 
presumptuous foes. " Gentlemen," said he, " it is not 
long since I met you in this place, upon an occasion 
which gave much more content and comfort than this 
doth. That which I have to say to you now needs no 
preamble to let me into my discourse ; for the occasion 
of this meeting is plain enough. I could have wished, 
with all my heart, there had been no cause for it. At 
that meeting, I acquainted you what the first rise was 
of this government, which hath called you hither, on 
the authority of which you come hither. Among other 
things I told you of then, I said you were a free parlia- 
ment, and so you are while you own the government ana 
authority that called you hither, for certainly that word 
implied a reciprocation or implied nothing at all. 

He then called God to witness that he had not put him- 



B78 OLIVER CROMWELL 

sell' in the place he occupied, but God and the people ; and 
continued he, with sudden vehemence, " If my calling 
be from God, and my testimony from the people, God, 
ind the people shall take it from me, else I will not part 
with it." Subsiding from his high tone and passionate 
manner, he reviewed the past ; declaring that after the 
battle of Worcester, he again and again solicited to be 
discharged from public duties, that he might retire tc 
private life ; and on being refused, had urged, as a mem- 
ber of parliament, that they should fix, for the welfare of 
the Commonwealth, a limit to their sittings. Failing in 
this, he broke them up ; and so content were the people 
with the measure, that when they went, " there was not 
so much as the barking of a dog, or any general or 
visible repining at it." He then spoke of the Little 
Parliament which he called together, for the sole pur- 
pose of surrendering his power into their hands — and 
declared that their resignation was utterly unknown to 
him till accomplished. His hopes being thus defeated, 
he was induced, by the urgent appeals of others, to take 
upon himself the title of Lord-Protector : and an instru- 
ment placing the government in him and parliament, was 
adopted " in presence of the Commissioners of the Great 
Seal, Lord Mayor, and Aldermen of London, soldiers, 
gentlemen, and citizens" — nay, before all the world, and 
acknowledged by it, as well as the three kingdoms of 
England, Scotland, and Ireland. Judges, and magis- 
trates, and sheriffs, by taking their commissions from 
him, had recognized the constitutionality of the act. He 
then asked them if they had not come hither as members 



1654.] CLOSE OF HIS SPEECH. 379 

of parliament, on writs issued by himself to the sheriffs 
of the different counties ; and if the act of government 
was not read at the place of election, so that there could 
be no misunderstanding; and if the people had not signed 
an indenture, with proviso that the persons so chosen 
should not have the power to alter the government, as 
now settled in one single person and a pajdiament." 

" Thus," said he, I have maae good my second asser- 
tion, that I bear not witness to myself, but that the good 
people of England and you all are my witnesses." The 
constitutionality of the government was plain ; God 
and the people were the authority it claimed ; — could 
Charles Stuart show a higher ? There were a hundred 
battle-fields, on which God had been the arbiter ; and 
there were the people with the indenture in their hands ; 
and here are " you," members of parliament, by your 
acknowledgment of my summons, witnesses of the 
legality of my Protectorate." Thus he went on, telling 
them that now to disown the authority by which they 
sat, was contrary to all right, and Derilied deeply the 
welfare of the nation. 

He then touched upon the perpetuity of parliaments, 
liberty of conscience, the militia, finances ; and wound 
up that part of his address by one of those sudden 
explosions so terrible to the beholder, and seldom 
witnessed except in the shock of battle. With his eyes 
flashing fire, and his rough voice pitched to its battle 
key, and rolling like heavy thunder through the cham- 
ber, he exclaimed : " And now, the wilful throwing 
away of this goves -nment, such as it is — so owned of God 



880 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

— so witnessed to — so necessary to the welfare of this 
nation and posterity — / will sooner be rolled into 
my grave and buried with infamy, than give my con- 
sent to it" He was no longer the Puritan exhorter, or 
composed statesman, but the hero of Naseby, Marston 
Moor, Dunbar, and Worcester — the daring chieftain 
charging into the breach of Drogheda. Those who had 
never seen him in the midst of battle, had now a fair op- 
portunity of witnessing the look and bearing so often 
spoken of as appalling and fearful. On every linea- 
ment of his massive features was written his unalterable 
determination ; and as he bent his shaggy brows on 
the breathless and startled parliament, his whole aspect 
said, in language not to be misunderstood, " If you now 
close with me, it will be in a mortal struggle" No 
temporizing Charles I. stood there, trembling before the 
storm he had raised; but one in whose bosom was a 
wilder storm than they had ever dreamed of. It was a 
sublime spectacle — that single plebeian, standing in pres- 
ence of three hundred of the choicest men of England, 
and awing them by his more than imperial frown into 
silence and submission. 

He closed this extraordinary speech by telling them 
it would have been full as honorable, had they recog- 
nized the authority which called them together, instead 
of treating it. as they had, with studied neglect, and then 
open defiance ; and added — " Seeing the authority which 
called you is so little valued, and so much slighted. — till 
some assurance is given and made known, that the 
fundamental interest shall be settled and approved, 



1G54.] CLOSE OF HIS SPEECH. 381 

according to the provisions in the writ of Return, ana 
such a consent testified as will make it appear that the 
same is accepted, I have caused a stop to be put to your 
entrance into the Parliament Hovs ■ " 

" I am sorry — / am sorry," he exclaimed, as his feel- 
ings once more gained the mastery, " / could be sorry to 
the death, that there is cause for this. But there is 
cause ; and if things be not satisfied, which are rea- 
sonably demanded, I, for my part, will do that which 
becomes me, seeking counsel from God." If he can't 
have a reasonable parliament, he will fall back on 
God, and his conscience, and take counsel from them 
alone. "But," he tells them in conclusion, there is a 
"thing" they "will find in the lobby of the House," 
the signing of which, will settle the matter between 
them. 

The House then adjourned in confusion ; and repair- 
ing to the Parliament House, found a parchment in the 
lobby, with an officer standing by to take signatures to 
it, which contained the following significant sentence : 
" I do hereby freely promise and engage myself to be 
true and faithful to the Lord- Protector, and th*> Com 
monwealth of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and shah 
not {according to the tenor of the indenture whereby 1 
:im returned to serve in this present parliament) propose 
vr give my consent to alter the government, as it is 
settled in a single person and a parliament" Lenthall 
signed first, followed by about a hundred others ; Brad- 
shaw, Haselrig, Scot, and others, refused — muttering 
deep indignation against the Protector. 



382 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Gradually, most of the remainder came in, so that a 
the end of a month three hundred had taken the pledge, 
and the labors of parliament were resumed. 

We will not stop here to defend this other arbitrary 
act of Cromwell; but say simply, in our opinion, if he 
had acted differently he would have been utterly un- 
worthy of the place he occupied. Here was a govern- 
ment well established, which had secured peace and 
honor abroad, and respect and confidence at home, on 
whose strength and integrity all relied, suddenly assailed 
by members of parliament, who could have no other 
motive for their reckless attack than the gratification 
of personal malice and hate. They had the dishonesty 
to acknowledge the authority of Cromwell by assembling 
at his call, and then deny it after having come together. 
They were not only guilty of this inconsistency, but 
violated their solemn pledge, given to their constituents, 
without which they would not have been returned. 
They were false alike to the Protector, their oath, and 
the people who sent them. As this treachery on their 
part struck at no less than the peace of the three king- 
doms, and threatened to involve them again in war and 
bloodshed, Cromwell would have been false to the pro- 
mise he had given, if he had allowed them to go on and 
perfect the work of ruin in their blind passion. His 
act is called arbitrary, and compared to similar ones 
in the history of Charles I. ; but the resemblance is in 
form only. Charles attempted by force to make the 
representatives of the people prove recreant to their 
pledges, their duty, and the constitution of England ■ 



1654 J THROWN FROM HIS CARRIAGE. &S3 

Cromwell used his power to make them keep their 
oath, and not betray the country they represented. 
Is there no difference then between their acts ? Parlia- 
ment undertook to subvert the government they had 
sworn to uphold, for, at least, one year, and Cromwell, 
very properly and very emphatically, told them, he 
would sooner be rolled into his grave, and buried with 
infamy, than allow it to be done. 

Previous to the resumption of business, an occurrence 
took place which caused much talk; and well nigh 
changed the destiny of England. On the 20th of Sep- 
tember, the Protector took it into his head to have a 
lunch in Hyde Park, under the trees, with his secretary, 
Thurloe, and a few other gentlemen. He had previous- 
ly taken a drive, in a coach drawn by six beautiful grey 
Friesland horses, the present of the Duke of Old en burgh. 
After the repast, he proposed to drive this fiery team 
himself, and so his Highness mounted the box, and 
started off. For awhile, he managed very well ; but 
rousing the mettle of the high-blooded animals too far 
by the whip, they, at length, broke from his control, 
and dashed fiercely away. Cromwell was hurled from 
the box, and struck upon the pole, where he maintained 
his balance for some time; but at length he fell, and, his 
feet catching in the harness, was dragged violently over 
the gravelly path. But his shoe coming off, he was re- 
leased from his perilous position, and left on the ground. 
In the struggle and concussion, a pistol went off in his 
pocket, which was the occasion of many rumors : one 
thing, however, was evident; that his Highness was a 



384 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

soldier yet, and ready at any moment to fire a pistol iu 
an assassin's face — a fact, doubtless, well considered by 
many who were plotting against his life. 

The next month, November 16th, his aged mother, 
ninety-four years old, died. For a long time she 
nad lived in perpetual alarm, lest the life of her son 
should be taken. Assassins haunted her declining days, 
and she was distressed if she did not see him, at least, 
once a day. When she saw death approaching, she 
sent for him, and, in tremulous accents, gave him her 
.ast benediction ; " The Lord cause His face to shine 
upon you," said she ; " and comfort you in all your adver- 
sities ; and enable you to do great things for the glory of 
ihe Most High God, and to be a relief to His people, 
.My dear son, Heave my heart with thee. Good Night!" 
and closing her eyes, she breathed forth her spirit to the 
God who gave it. Cromwell gazed a moment on her 
pallid features, and then burst into a flood of tears. 
What a picture does he, the Lord- Protector of England 
— the hero of so many battle-fields — the resolute, iron- 
willed man, present, weeping beside his aged mother. 
The whole scene reminds one of the parting interview 
between Washington and his venerable parent, at 
Fredei icksburgh. * 

The proceedings o'" this parliament are hardly worth 
recording. It first voted, that signing the pledge re- 

* She said to him, "Go George, fulfil the high destinies which 
heaven appears v.o assign you ; go, my son, and may heaven's and your 
mother's blessing be with yoo always." Washington, overcome by her 
words, leaned his head (>.i \*st &geO shoulder and wept. 



1654.] WEST INDIA EXPEDITION. 385 

quired by Cromwell did not bind them to the whole 
instrument of government ; and soon after, in a ridicu- 
lous affectation of independence, resolved that no one 
should be returned to that parliament without re- 
cognizing the government. They discussed also the 
Protectorate ; whether it should be hereditary, or not ; 
and voted that no one should be tolerated, who did not 
subscribe to the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, 
which by committee were decided to exclude Deists, 
Socinians, Papists, Arians, Antinomians, Quakers, &c. 
Thus the parliament showed itself as bigoted as it was 
refractory. Meddling with everything which did not 
concern it ; and touching nothing which the wants 
of the State demanded ; — finding fault with taxes abso- 
lutely indispensable to meet the current expenditures ; 
and refusing supplies, without which government could 
not be carried on ; it unsettled rather than quieted the 
affairs of the nation. 

A large armament was fitted out at this time, under 
Generals Venables and Penn, who were not to open their 
orders till they arrived at a certain latitude. Their 
destination was the West India islands, where they were 
to intercept the Spanish plate fleet, and to conquer 
Jamaica. 

About this time, also, symptoms of discontent showed 
themselves in the army of Scotland, to which between 
two and three months' pay was due. The insurgents 
talked of deposing Monk, and appointing Overton com- 
mander ; and then march into England and demand re- 
dress. The plottings of royalists were also felt in other 
17 



386 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

parts of the kingdom ; but the ever-vigilant eye and sud* 
den stroke of Cromwell rendered every attempt power- 
less. Overton, and Ludlow, and Harrison, and Alured, 
at length became involved in disgrace. 

On the 22d of January, 1655, this troublesome par- 
liament received a summons to attend his Highness in 
the painted chamber, where, after a long speech and a 
sharp reprimand, he concluded, " I think it my duty to 
tell you that it is not for the profit of these nations, not 
for the common and public good for you to continue 
here any longer. And, therefore, / do declare unto you, 
that I do dissolve this 'parliament." 

Thus ended the first Protectorate parliament, much to 
their own astonishment ; for they did not expect a disso- 
lution until the five months specified by law had expired ; 
and on this ground remonstrated. But Cromwell told 
them they had sat five calendar months, which was the 
way time was reckoned in the army ; and they departed, 
each to his home. 

Oliver was now absolute monarch ; and although his 
dissolution of parliament was legal, it is evident he 
was willing to stretch a point to get rid of it. Forced, 
step by step, from the broad platform of liberty 
on which he had first planted his feet — goaded on 
to the assumption of supreme power — he seems like 
one whom an invisible fate is incessantly pushing 
forward against his own wishes. Afraid to trench 
on the liberties of the people ; still more afraid to 
let narrow sectarians, or pseudo-statesmen, ruin the 
the kingdom ; he struggles on, hoping the next movement 



1655.] HIS ARBITRARY COURSE. 387 

will show that honesty and wisdom have at last met 
From the moment he dissolved parliament, he knew 
that Presbyterians, republicans, and royalists, would 
all conspire against him, and his future life must be 
one stern battle. He could no longer rely on the virtue 
of men ; he must, therefore, fall back on his power. 

Here commences the worst part of his career. Com- 
pelled to play the despot, he did it effectually, and held 
the three kingdoms with a grasp of iron. Knowing 
that moderate measures would not answer, he set about 
his plans with a grimness and savageness that remind 
us of his Irish campaign. He first issued an ordinance 
in his own name, for the payment of old rates and 
taxes — a method somewhat after Charles I. — in order to 
supply present necessities. 

But, while maturing his system of arbitrary rule, 
an insurrectionary plot was discovered, of which Major 
Wildman, an Anabaptist, was chief. Its ramifications 
were extensive and dangerous ; but its timely discovery, 
and the arrest and imprisonment of Wildman, pre- 
vented any bad result. A month after, (March 11th,) 
there was a sudden rising of royalists in the city of 
Salisbury ; and about two hundred men, with Sir 
Joseph WagstafT, a royalist colonel, and Penruddock, a 
wealthy gentleman, at their head, seized the judges and 
the high-sheriff — it being assize time — and threatened 
to hang them. Proclaiming Charles II. king, they, after 
an ineffectual attempt to bring the city over, left in 
haste for Cornwall; but were overtaken by one of 
Cromwell's troops, and dispersed. Penruddock and 



588 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Grove were taken, seized, and beheaded ; while the rest 
of the prisoners, or most of them, were sent as slaves to 
Barbadoes, where Oliver, for years, had been in the habit 
of despatching unruly subjects from the three kingdoms. 

To meet all these conspiracies, control the hatred 
and enmity of royalists, Presbyterians, and fierce repub- 
licans, raise money, and sustain his foreign policy, 
demanded all the strength of character and sagacity 
which he possessed. A police system, never before 
equalled, was immediately established : Thurloe, Crom- 
well's secretary, had his spies in every regiment and 
town ; and immense sums were annually expended 
to perfect and carry it out. To mark his enemies 
as distinctly as possible, he forbid all Episcopal 
clergymen, who had been deprived of their living, 
to teach schools, or instruct classes, or preach, or use 
the church service in public or private, (a measure 
borrowed from Laud,) — banished all cavaliers andCatho- 
lics twenty miles from London, and Catholic priests the 
kingdom. He established a strict censorship of the 
press — imprisoned many of the nobility, until they could 
give bail for their good behavior ; — and thus, w T rapping 
himself in his power, bade defiance to his enemies. He 
had at last drawn the sword, and thrown away the scab- 
bard — resolved, since he could not conciliate, to over- 
awe. 

But money was needed for his troops, and for the 
expenditures of government ; and so he issued an 
ordinance decimating all who had openly declared for 
the king — that is, compelled them to give a tenth of 



1655.] THE MAJOR GENERALS 389 

their entire income to the State. He next divided 
England and Wales into twelve districts, over each of 
which he appointed a major-general to command the 
militia. The latter sub-divided into companies and 
troops, were quartered in the towns supposed to be th8 
most disaffected ; and a military despotism, as terrible 
in principle, if not in practice, as was ever invented, 
was fastened on England. These major-generals had 
almost unlimited powers ; and from their conduct there 
was no appeal to a court of law — the Protector alone 
could right the wronged. To suppress tumults, fer- 
ret out, and disarm conspirators, see that the ordinance 
respecting disaffected and scandalous ministers, was 
obeyed — the law against drunkenness, profane swear- 
ing, and gambling, enforced, and to suppress horse 
racing, cock-fighting, theatres, &c, were some of the 
public duties they were required to perform, while they 
received secret instructions to assist in carrying out the 
decimation of the royalists. Fleetwood, whom Oliver's 
son Henry had succeeded in Ireland; Desborough, 
Lambert, Whalley, Goffe, Skippon, and others, were 
the officers appointed to this service. The only 
apology that can be made for this despotic course is, 
that it was the result of necessity, not love of power. 
He, himself, in speaking of the appointment of major- 
generals, afterwards, says, " But, if nothing should ever 
be done but what is according to law, the throat of the 
nation may be cut while we send for some to make a 
law. Therefore, it is a pitiful, beastly notion, to think, 
though it be for ordinary government, to live by law 



390 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

and rule; yet, if a government, in extraordinary cir- 
cumstances, go beyond the law, even for self -preser- 
vation, it is to be clamored at and blotted at." He 
openly declared to parliament, that nothing else would 
have answered against royalist plots ; and so satisfied 
was he of the necessity and good effect of the measure, 
that "if he had the same thing to do over again, he 
would do it. 

We are bound to believe his solemn asseverations, 
in which he calls God to witness that he had not sought 
tne power with which he had been invested. " I have 
learned too much of God," says he, " to dally with Him, 
and to be bold with Him in these things. I dare not 
be bold with Him, though I can be bold with men." 
But being invested with this power, he endeavored first 
to surrender it to the Little Parliament ; and failing, re- 
ceived the title of Protector, and called a parliament 
to co-operate with him. Forced by their dishonest 
actions, either to abandon the settlement of the nation, 
which had been obtained with so much effort, or dis- 
perse them, he chose the latter course. Having, by 
this act, separated himself from all conciliation, he had 
either to crush his enemies, or be crushed. There was 
no compromise, and he knew it. He must choose to 
be a despot, or surrender England to anarchy — there was 
no other course left him. 

In the second place, his tyranny was not exerted for 
base purposes, to enrich himself or feed his lusts ; but, 
for the welfare of his country, and the protection of reli- 
gion. The instruments he selected were not slaves, nor 



1655.] REASONS OF HIS CONDUCT. 391 

unprincipled courtiers ; but men of integrity and con- 
science. In the third place, his severity towards the roy- 
alists and Episcopalians, was not the result of bigotry, aa 
in the case of Laud, but to save himself and the gov- 
ernment. It was not with opposing views and senti- 
ments that he waged war, but against assassins' knives, 
and bloody plots. His tyranny was adopted as a hedge 
to the government, and did not grow out of his love of 
power ; for, while he was as severe as doom to those who 
plotted against its interests, he was magnanimous to his 
personal enemies, and forgave many a bloody attempt 
on his life. The difference between a despotism which 
is based on personal considerations, and is reckless of 
the common good, and that used as a defence against 
anarchy and evils worse than despotism, is all the dif- 
ference between Charles I. and Oliver Cromwell. This 
judging by the act alone, and not by the spirit which 
prompted it, or the object to be secured, is the great 
and radical error the historians of both have fallen into. 
Thus, while we pronounce his whole conduct, during 
this period, as arbitrary in the extreme, and wrong, 
we look in vain for any other safe course which he 
could have pursued. We have never yet seen one 
pointed out by his enemies. Necessity, as he said, knows 
no law ; and he felt the truth of the maxim deeply. 

The military despotism established through the 
Major-Generals, was probably, from the character of 
the officers, the most just in its action that ever was 
organized. Yet in carrying out the details by subordi 
nates, much wrong and oppression were suffered 



392 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Among instances of these, we notice the arrest of the 
poet Cleveland ; and the imprisonment of Jeremy Tay- 
lor, for his strong Episcopal notions. 

While these internal regulations were being enforced, 
external affairs were prosperous. Scotland, though 
heavily taxed to support the army and government, and 
now and then showing symptoms of discontent in the 
Highlands, prospered as it had not done before for years. 
Religion flourished — the laws were respected, and the 
people content under the Protectorate. Henry Crom- 
well, as Lord-Deputy of Ireland, ruled that unhappy 
island with consummate ability, and evinced much of 
the talents of his father. The West India expedition 
was the only failure the Protector experienced. Gen- 
erals Penn (the father of our own Quaker Penn) and 
Venables effected a landing at Hispaniola with some 
10,000 troops, but were defeated. Re-embarking, they 
made a descent on Jamaica, and took it, though it 
proved, for the time, a barren capture. On their return, 
they were thrown into the Tower ; for blunders were 
almost as bad as intentional crimes, in the eyes of the 
Protector 

Cromwell, however, whose far-reaching mind foresaw 
the advantage of these islands in a commercial point of 
view, did not abandon the undertaking, but immediately 
fitted out a large armament under Montague, and also 
sent a letter to General Fortescue, who had been left in 
command of the island, sketching the plan he was to 
pursue in his military operations. We might as well 
mention here, also, that having determined to settle the 



1 655.] PERSECUTION OF THE VAUDOIS. 393 

island with English, he afterwards ordered his son 
Henry, Lord-Deputy of Ireland, to despatch a thousand 
Irish girls there — as two hundred English maidens were 
once sent to Virginia, as wives for the colonists, valued 
at a certain quantity of tobacco per head. He also 
directed that the loose women of London should be 
seized and transported thither — and twelve hundred were 
thus shipped in three vessels. This, doubtless, was 
good policy, if designed to affect London ; but we can- 
not exactly see its wisdom with regard to Jamaica, 
much less its morality. 

Blake, who had been despatched with a fleet to the 
Mediterranean, to clear it of pirates, was more success- 
ful than Penn and Venables had been. The Deys of 
Algiers, Tunis and Tripoli were humbled, one after 
another — the Duke of Tuscany was compelled to make 
reparation for having allowed prizes, taken by Prince 
Rupert, to be sold in his harbors ; while the Republic of 
Genoa sent an ambassador to thank the Protector for 
having driven the pirates from their seas. Cromwell 
also turned his attention to New England, and made the 
colonies do their part towards the subjugation of 
Jamaica. Thus was laid the foundation of the British 
possessions in the West Indies. 

PERSECUTION OF THE VAUDOIS. 

In June, of this year, came the news of the persecu- 
tions in the valley of Piedmont. Six Catholic regi- 
ments, three of which were Irish, were appointed to 

17* 



394 OLIVER CROM W ELL. 

drive the Vaudois from their homes in mid-winter 
The cruelties, the inhuman barbarity, that marked the 
proceedings against the poor Protestants, are well known. 
" Villages were burned to the ground ; men were hewn 
in pieces ; children's brains dashed out against the rocks, 
and women impaled naked — a hundred and fifty females 
were beheaded, and their heads used in a game of 
bowls." When the news of the atrocities reached 
Cromwell, he burst into tears — they were the saints of 
God who thus suffered, and all his compassion was 
roused within him. On that day* he was to sign the 
treaty with France, which had for a long time been 
under contemplation ; but he immediately refused, de- 
claring that negociations should proceed no further 
until the king and Mazarin, the prime minister, would 
pledge themselves to assist him in saving the Vaudois 
Protestants. He gave £2000 from his private purse 
towards relieving their wants, and appointed Milton to 
write letters to the several European powers, invoking 
their aid. The noble bard entered with all the zeal 
and enthusiasm of his great master into the work. His 
sublime sonnet on the Vaudois will live for ever, a 
monument both to his genius and his religion. 

Avenge, O, Lord ! thy slaughtered saints, whose hones 
Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ; 
Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 
When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, 
Forget not ! in thy Book record their groans, 

* The 3d cf Jan., 1655. 



1 G55.] SAVES THE PIEDMONTESE. 395 

Who were thy sheep ; and, in their ancient fold, 
Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled 

Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans 

The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 

To Heaven. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow 
O'er all the Italian fields, where still doih sway 

The triple tyrant ; that from these may grow 
A hundred-fold, who having learned thy way, 
Early may fly the Babylonian woe. 

A day of fasting and humiliation was appointed, and 
a collection ordered to be taken in all the churches. 
The contribution amounted to oyer £37,000, showing 
how deeply Protestant England was stirred by the per- 
secution of the Piedmontese Christians. It is said that 
Cromwell, in a burst of passion, replied to some obsta- 
cles that were mentioned as interfering with his plans, 
that " he would sail his ships over the Alps, but that he 
would put a stop to the persecution." 

Bordeaux, the French ambassador, complained of his 
refusal to sign the treaty — declaring that the King of 
France could not meddle with the administration of an 
internal State, and that the Duke of Savoy had as good 
a right to make laws for his Protestant, as he, the Pro- 
tector, had for his Catholic, subjects. But Cromwell 
would not yield a jot until France had promised to put 
a stop to the cruelties practised on the Vaudois. Bor- 
deaux, in anger, asked audience to take leave — still the 
former would not relent. War with France, nay, with 
the whole world, if necessary, he would wage, but this 
persecution of the children of God should cease 



396 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

The king of France at length yielded, and word wa9 
sem that the Duke of Savoy had granted an amnesty to 
the Vaudois, and restored their ancient rights. Maza- 
rin, who, in fact, ruled France, had brought this about, 
for he stood in deadly fear of Cromwell. It is said that 
he always turned pale when he heard his name men- 
tioned. 

Oliver was the champion of Protestantism the world 
over, and he wished it so understood: he would 
defend it wherever his arm could reach. Not content 
with the efforts he had put forth for the Piedmontese, 
he sent a messenger to the Duke of Savoy, remonstrat- 
ing against his conduct. He also took pains to let the 
Pope understand, that he knew him to be at the bottom 
of the unnatural persecution, and if he did not be- 
ware, he would see his ships in the harbor of Civita 
Vecchia, and hear the thunder of his cannon around 
the Vatican. 

In all his treaties, he made the rights of the Protest- 
ants an indispensable article. He insisted that English 
merchants in Portugal should be allowed to worship 
God in their own way, and compelled France to respect 
the lives of the Huguenots. The latter called him 
" their only hope next to God." He sent a man named 
Stoupe, through all that kingdom, to inquire into 
their condition, resources, &c, and found that Mazarin 
had taken good care not to offend him on this point. 
The next year an emeute occurred at Nismes, be- 
tween the Protestant and Catholic population, re. 
specting the election of consul, or chief magistrate, 



1655.] DEFENDS PROTESTANTS. 31/7 

in whic 1 some of the latter were killed. The 
court immediately resolved to punish the Protestants 
severely, and pull down their temples. When this was 
known, they sent a petition to the king, praying to be 
forgiven, and at the same time despatched a messenger 
in haste to Cromwell, claiming his protection. The 
latter no sooner heard the messenger's account, than 
he bade him refresh himself, as he would take care of 
his business; and that very night sent an express 
to Lockhart, his ambassador at Paris, bidding him 
demand forgiveness for the Protestants of Nismes ; and 
if refused, to leave the kingdom without delay. Ma- 
zarin shuffled and complained of the naughty and 
imperious course of the Protector, but, (as it was cur- 
rently reported,) " he was more afraid of him than of the 
devil," and soon an order was on its way, promising the 
pardon of the offenders. 

Thus the terror of his name became everywhere a 
shield for the persecuted Christians, and he was always 
remembered by them in their morning and evening 
devotions. 

This stern and decided interference of his, in behalf 
of the Vaudois, has given his biographers another 
occasion to charge him with hypocrisy. He burst into 
tears — hazarded a war with France — defied the Pope — ■ 
gave away ten thousand dollars, and all to deceive his 
subjects. If he had shown no feeling, his enemies 
would have said with infinite zest, that his religious 
fervor disappeared so soon as he felt himself firmly seat- 
ed in power. If he had blustered and remonstrated. 



308 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

but risked nothing, they would have exclaimed with 
pious horror, " behold his deceit!" As he took neither 
course, but endangered the peace he had so long striven 
to secure, and awakened the hostility of foreign nations 
— nay resolutely and stubbornly carried his point, and 
rescued the suffering Vaudois, his actions are termed, 
with the utmost sang fr old, " hypocritical pretence." It 
were desirable if English rulers of the present day 
would exhibit something of this hypocrisy. They 
will see Poland dismembered — Tahiti invaded by Catho- 
lics — Switzerland threatened with the legions of despots, 
and be content with a little bluster, a grave remon- 
strance or two, but never interpose their strength 
between the persecuted and the persecutors. Cromwell 
might have done the same; and if he had been as 
selfish and politic as modern sovereigns are, he would. 
He who can find nothing but heartlessness in this con- 
duct, can detect treason in heaven. His prejudice 
would turn gold into dross, beauty into deformity, nay, 
truth itself into falsehood. 

On the 23d of October appeared the declaration of war 
with Spain, growing out of its refusal to protect Eng- 
lish traders in the West Indies, and allow English mer- 
chants to worship God in the Protestant form, together 
with its general hostility, as a Papal country, to his gov- 
ernment. The close of this year (1655) was distinguish- 
ed for the effort made by Cromwell to give foreign Jews 
permission to return to England, invested with the 
privilege of alien citizens. It proved unsuccessful; 
out yet, shows the liberality of feeling which charactei- 



1(}56.] ANECDOTE OF HIM. 399 

ized him, where danger to the State was not to be 
apprehended. A committee of trade was also formed, 
to take into consideration the commerce of the country, 
and adopt means for its advancement. 

The opening of the next year (1656) was com- 
paratively calm. Fiery republicans and hot-headed 
royalists could not remain entirely quiet; but the 
thorough police regulations, everywhere established, 
and the firm hand with which the Protector held the 
reins of government, kept them still, if not reconciled. 
Blake and Montague, at Cadiz, cruising in search of the 
enemy — negotiations with Portugal, or rather threats, 
which had taken their place — arrangements for the 
marriage of his daughters, Frances and Mary (the for- 
mer to Rich, the latter to Lord Fauconberg)* — cor- 

* Some writers say Faulconbridge. " There is a curious story re- 
lated of Frances, the youngest and most beautiful of Cromwell's daugh- 
ters — the one whom the gossip of Europe had selected as the bride of 
Charles II. Jerry White, one of Oliver's chaplains, aspired to her 
hand. This being told Cromwell, he ordered them to be watched, and 
one day caught the poor chaplain in Fanny's apartment, on his knees 
before her. ' What is the meaning of this posture,' exclaimed Oliver. 
The chaplain with great presence of mind, replied, " May it please 
your highness, I have a long time courted that young gentlewoman 
there, my lady's woman, and cannot prevail ; I was therefore humbly 
praying her ladyship to intercede for me.' Oliver, turning to the 
waiting-woman, said, ' What is the meaning of this ? He is my friend, 
and I expect you should treat him as such.' She, desiring nothing 
more, replied with a low courtesy, * If Mr. White intends me that 
honor, I should not oppose him.' Upon this Oliver said, ' Well, call 
Goodwin ; this business shall be done presently, before I go out of the 
room.' Jerry could not retreat. Goodwin came, and they were in- 
•tantly married ; the bride at the same time receiving £500 from the 
Protector 



400 OLIVER 9ROMWELL. 

respondence with Henry Cromwell, deputy of Ireland — ■ 
great efforts to secure the election of right members of 
parliament, which was to meet in September: these 
were the matters and objects which engrossed the 
mind of the Protector during the spring and summer 
Meanwhile, the election was going on in various parts 
of the kingdom, characterized by the bitterest animosi- 
ties. Cromwell needed supplies as well as Charles L, 
and also a parliament to vote them. But he resolved, 
at the same time, that it should not be so refractory as 
the latter had been; and he, therefore, arrested the 
most turbulent spirits, that were striving to have an 
opposition returned too strong for him. Vane, for 
his tract called the "Healing Question," was sent to 
the Isle of Wight ; Bradshaw, Ludlow, Rich, and Col. 
Okey, were put under arrest ; Harrison sent into Pen- 
dennis Castle, and a strong hand laid on the active 
royalists. He did not ask these men to swear allegiance 
to his government — he required them only to be peace- 
able, and not endeavor to raise disturbance. They 
refusing to give any such promise, he deemed it neces- 
sary for the public safety, to confine them for awhile. 
Still a large opposition was returned, and among them 
Scot, Haselrig, and Ashley Cooper, the latter of whom 
had been jilted by Cromwell's daughter. These and 
others the Protector and his council thought best to 
send home, which they did in a summary and rather 
extraordinary manner. They had the power to verify 
the returns of the elections; which they stretched to 
the power of exclusion of members. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

FROM THE SECOND PROTECTORATE PARLIAMENT TO THf 
DEATH OF CROMWELL, SEPT., 1656 TO SEPT., 1658. 

Opening of Parliament — Members Rejected — Naylor and the Quakers 
— Victory of Blake and Montague — Sindercombe Conspiracy — 
Narrow Escape of Cromwell — Petition and Advice — Cromwell 
Offered the Crown — Conferences on the Subject — Finally Rejects 
It — Statements of His Enemies — Conspiracies — Marriage of His 
Two Daughters — Re-assembling of Parliament — Refuses to Acknow- 
ledge the New House Provided for in " Petitions and Advice" — 
Cromwell's Speech — The Madness of Parliament Encourages Con- 
spirators — Dissolved by Cromwell — His New Life Guard — Family 
afflictions — His Last Sickness and Death— His Character. 

The new parliament assembled on the 17th of Sept.. 
and, after service, received the opening message of the 
Protector. He spoke, as was his wont, extempore ; 
sometimes flashing up with excitement, and freeing his 
overwrought spirit in strong expressions, and then 
floundering heavily through a sea of thoughts. 

He first took up the Spanish war — spoke of its origin 
and justice — then referred to the plots laid to assassinate 
him — denounced the Levellers and Fifth Monarchy men 
— defended the appointment of major-generals, with 
openness and earnestness — pressed on parliament the 
propriety of toleration of al! Christian sects — recom- 



402 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

mended public appropriations for the support of the 
gospel ministry, and urged reform in law, especially the 
criminal law, which made almost every offence a capital 
one. He then alluded to the state of finances, saying, 
there was great need of money to carry on the war 
abroad, and protect the government at home, and con- 
cluded by quoting the 85th Psalm, beginning, " Lord, 
Thou hast been very favorable to thy land — Thou hast 
brought back the captivity of Jacob, &c," and tells 
them, if they will only " put their hearts" to the work, 
they need not be afraid " if Pope, Spaniard, devil, and 
all, set themselves against them ;" but, can joyfully, 
triumphantly, " sing Luther's psalm, ' Eine feste Burg 
ist unser Gott' — God is our refuge and strength ; a very 
present help in time of trouble — therefore, will we not 
fear, though the earth be removed, and though the 
mountains thereof be carried into the sea * * * The 
Lord of Hosts is w r ith us, the God of Jacob is our 
refuge." 

The members then adjourned to the House, at the 
door of which they found soldiers ranked who refused 
admittance to all who had not received certificates 
from the council. Nearly a hundred, having refus- 
ed to give their pledge to support the government, 
were denied certificates, and hence excluded from their 
seats. Loud outcries were made against this violation 
of the privilege of parliament — the hundred members 
appealed to the House, but were referred by it to the 
council, and finally were compelled to return to their 
constituents, content with having framed a masterly 



1656.] CASE OF NAYLOR. 40& 

appeal to the people of England, in which it was evident 
they had all the law on their side, while Cromwell could 
plead only necessity. 

The parliament having chosen Widdrington Speaker, 
soon showed that the Protector had nothing to fear from 
their opposition. The war with Spain was upheld — 
Charles Stuart and his family pronounced destitute of 
all claims to the throne, and £400,000 voted for the use 
of government. In the meantime, the case of Naylor, 
the mad Quaker, was taken up, and consumed three 
months in its discussion, much to the annoyance of 
Cromwell, who endeavored to prevent the ridiculous 
and severe punishment awarded him.* Other sects, 
such as the Muggletonians, Unitarians, &c, came 
in for their share of persecution ; which added to 
his displeasure, for, in the first place, he wished more 

* The Quakers had recently sprung into existence as a sect ; George 
Fox, the father of it, commenced his itinerant preaching against all 
ordained ministers; declaring that the "inward light" was the only 
guide in religion, in 1650 ; and it was not till two years after, that the 
Quakers met in separate assemblies. From this time on, they began to 
increase, and, for refusing to obey the magistrates, who would coerce 
their religious liberty, and interrupting the worship of other denomi- 
nations, they were soon honored with a good deal of persecution. This 
James Naylor, formerly one of Lambert's officers, was one of the most 
extravagant of the sect, and allowed himself to be accompanied into 
Bristol in a most extraordinary manner, and to receive the same honors 
as Jesus Christ did when he entered Jerusalem For this, and similar 
blasphemies, he was condemned to the pillory, to have his tongue 
bored through with a hot iron, to be branded in the forehead, &c. 
Cromwell was opposed to these cruelties, and received even Fox 
himself with kindness, and told him, that if they could see each othei 
oftener and discourse on spiritual things t 4 u ey would be nearer together 



404 OLIVER CROMWELL 

toleration, and, in the second, felt that weightier mat 
ters deserved the consideration of members. 

The svstem of major-generals was now, at his sug- 
gestion, abandoned — much to the joy of the people, on 
whom the quartering of the military fell heavy. About 
the same time, Blake and Montague attacked the Span- 
ish fleet, in the bay of Santa Cruz ; and though it was 
defended by a castle, and a strong line of forts, burned it 
to the water-edge. Captain Stayner led the van in 
this desperate attack, and was afterwards knighted for 
his gallantry. A short time previous, he had captured 
the celebrated plate-fleet that Penn and Venables were to 
intercept, and seized a large amount of money, which 
came very opportune to the exhausted treasury of 
Cromwell. Blake, not long after this, his last victory, 
w r as taken sick, and returned to England to die. He 
expired in sight of the country whose name he had 
made so terrible on the seas. 

In January, of the year 1657, occurred the famous 
Sexby and Sindercombe conspiracies. Sexby, an Ana- 
baptist colonel, had promised to assassinate Cromwell, 
for which he was to receive £1600 from Charles Stuart. 
Finding no opportunity to effect his purpose, he went 
to Flanders, to consult about the intended insurrection, 
which was to occur at the same time that the fleet of 
Spain, who was to invade England, should reach the 
coast. During his absence, Sindercombe, formerly a 
fierce republican, and brave officer, but who, having 
turned Leveller, and conspired against the government, 
was finally cashiered, took his place. He first attempted 



1 057 .] ATTEMPT TO SLAY HIM. 405 

to blow up Cromwell's carriage, as it was passing from 
Whitehall to Hampton Court ; but, failing in this, re- 
solved to set fire to Whitehall at night, and slay him in 
the general confusion that would follow. A hundred 
conspirators, supplied with fleet horses, were to aid him 
in this infernal attempt. 

Everything being completed, on the night of the 8th 
of January, a basket of fierce combustible materials 
was placed in the building, and a slow match kindled, 
which, in half an hour, or at midnight, would reach 
it. But while the fire was gradually making its way to 
the fatal material, a sentinel on guard smelt the com 
bustion, and gave the alarm, and the whole thing was 
discovered. Sindercombe was immediately seized, 
though he defended himself desperately. Thrown into 
prison, he saved the headsman the trouble of his 
his execution, by taking poison — though some of the 
enemies of Cromwell have the audacity to intimate it 
was given by order of the latter. 

Parliament, on hearing of the Protector's narrow 
escape, adjourned a week, till the affair could be sifted 
to the bottom ; and when it again assembled, appointed 
a day of thanksgiving for the preservation of his High- 
ness. The members went over in a body, to congratulate 
him on his wonderful deliverance. He, in return, on 
thanksgiving day, after hearing two sermons, entertained 
them with a princely dinner, and in the evening with 
rare instrumental and vocal music. 

On the heels of this came the celebrated "Address 
and Remonstrance," presented by Alderman Pack, mem 



•106 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

ber from London. The chief articles in this remon 
strance, were, first, that Cromwell should assume the 
title of king, and be invested with the power to name 
his successor ; second, that a parliament should be con 
voked, at least, once in three years ; and consist of twc 
Houses ; third, that there should be no encroachment* 
on privileges of parliament, and no members be excluded 
except on judgment of the House. The fourth article 
related to qualifications of members ; the fifth declared 
that the new House should consist of not less than forty, 
and not more than seventy, members ; the sixth referred 
to the alteration of the laws ; the seventh, to the reve- 
nue ; eighth, to the privy council ; ninth, to the great 
officers of State ; tenth and eleventh, to religious tolera- 
tion ; and the other seven, to less important matters. 
All were passed without a division, except the one re- 
specting the title of king, which occupied some days' de- 
bate; but was finally carried by a large majority. The 
bill then took the name of " Petition and Advice," and 
with the additional article, that unless the Protector gave 
his consent to the whole, no part of it should be of force, 
was presented to him in a flattering address, by the 
Speaker, Widdrington. To the surprise of parliament, 
he refused, at that time, to give his assent to it ; and 
said, the questions involved required deliberation. 

Previous to this, however, while the article respect- 
ing kingship was under debate, a hundred officers in the 
army presented themselves before him, begging him not 
to accept the proffered title. His answer to them wag 
abrupt and severe. He exposed their miserable policy 



1657.] PETITION ANL ADVICE. 40? 

and ridiculed their scruples — telling them that a short 
time since, when he was installed Protector, some of 
them presented him the instrument of government, with 
the title " king" actually inserted. He then refused to 
accept it ; and now, although he " loved the title, as 
a feather in the hat, as little as they did, yet it was 
strange they should boggle at it." He spoke, also, of 
the other articles ; especially the one authorizing the 
House of Lords — in short, gave them to understand 
they knew but little about the matter ; and it did not 
become them, of all men, to make such a show of con- 
science. 

We will not enter into a detailed account of the con- 
ferences, dialogues, &c, which this question occasion- 
ed. The chief reason assigned by parliament for in- 
sisting on it was, that the laws and constitution of Eng- 
land were adapted to the title " king ;" and it would be 
necessary to make a thorough change in every depart- 
ment, to adapt them to "Protector." Cromwell wished, 
exceedingly, to have some portions of the instrument 
adopted ; and yet, they had so fettered him, that he 
must either accept, or reject the whole. This he com- 
plained of in a second interview ; but still, gave a 
negative, though not the most decided. The House, 
however, adhered to its " Petition and Advice," and 
appointed a committee of ninety-nine to confer with 
him. The chief argument used by the several speakers, 
in their interviews, was the one already mentioned; — 
that the title "king" was grounded in all the institutions 
of England ; and the powers attached to it defined 



108 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

while Protector meant almost anything. The con- 
ference was broken up, by Cromwell telling them, that 
he would meet them on Monday, April 13th. At the 
time appointed, they came together, and his Highness 
made a very long and intricate speech, in which he 
endeavored to weigh fairly the arguments on both sides 
— winding up with the rather startling one against the 
article, that God seemed to have dealt so with the 
family of Stuart, " that he blasted the very title" 

The next ten days, :he Protector was sick, and could 
not attend the committee ; but on the third day, he 
received them, and listened to a long and tedious reply 
to his objections ; the sum of which was, that the wish 
of parliament, and the welfare of the nation, ought to 
be binding. 

On Monday, there was another session, and Crom- 
well spoke, declaring his willingness, in all proper ways, 
to be subservient to the representatives of the people : 
but it seemed to him that parliament was authority 
enough to make any title legal — he had his commission 
as general from it, and why not keep that of Protector. 
He wished only the peaceable settlement of the nation, 
and cared nothing for his own power. He acknow- 
ledged that he had "griped at the government of the 
nation without a legal consent ; but that was done upon 
principles of necessity." The time for such exercise of 
authority was past ; and he wished parliament to setttle 
the government on principles of law and constitution. 

The next day, he let the question of kingship pass ; 
and took up the other articles of the Petition in detail ; 



1657.] REFUSES TO BE MADE KING. 109 

commenting upon them, and suggesting such altera- 
tions, as he thought beneficial. 

The next two days, were spent by parliament in con- 
sidering the corrections offered, and other matters of 
general interest to the State ; but on May 1st, it again 
sent the committee to the Protector, to hear his deci- 
sion on the kingship. His speech was briefer on this 
occasion than formerly ; and after apologizing for troub- 
ling them so long, and complimenting them on their 
patriotic labors, and repeating the principle on which 
his objections were founded, he concluded by saying, 
" I am persuaded to return this answer to you : that I 
cannot undertake this government with the title of king. 
And this is mine answer to this great and weighty 
matter." Thus was this protracted and annoying affair 
ended ; and parliament adopted the remainder of the 
" Petition and Advice." Lambert, in the open and 
detetermined ground he took against the assumption of 
the title, showed so much spleen and hatred, that he was 
soon afterwards dismissed from office, though on a pen- 
sion of £2000 per annum. 

Much has been said about this conference on the 
kingly title; and Cromwell, as usual, charged with 
hypocrisy throughout. If he had accepted it, his 
ambition and former trickery w r ould, of course, have 
been most apparent. Concealing his deep and selfish 
designs under the mask of religion and patriotism, until 
he felt power within his grasp, he then vaulted into 
the throne. Such would have been the reasoning, 
had he been made king. As he refused, however, 
18 



410 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

there is no other way to make the charge of hypocrisy 
and amoition stick to him, except by declaring that 
his heart was in the crown ; and his fears alone kept 
his hand from it. So it makes no difference in his 
character, whether he accepted or refused — seized it for- 
cibly, or received it as a gift from parliament — the same 
harsh judgment is pronounced upon him by his enemies. 
The welfare of the country did not enter the category 
at all ; it was simply, a balancing between selfish fear 
and ambition. This man, who had risked his life in 
open war with the sovereign power of England, and 
a thousand times on the battle-field ; who had placed 
his foot on the neck of a king; broken up parliament 
at the pike's point, and dissolved it by his imperial 
word ; boldly assumed all the power the title of king 
could confer ; laid his hand on the very chieftains who 
surrounded him at Naseby, Marston Moor, Dunbar, and 
Worcester, and quartered his troops in almost every 
town of England ; — this man, who had performed the 
boldest acts ever planned by a human intellect or exe- 
cuted by a human arm, and, as asserted, solely for the 
purpose of getting a crown, refused, through personal 
fear, to take it when offered him, though urged upon him 
by the highest legislative body of the land. To such 
logic we must surrender our reason, and adopt its con- 
clusions, if we would escape the heinous offence of 
upholding a " monster, a tyrant, and a hypocrite." 

But when the fog is cleared away from this insignifi- 
cant affair, the simple truth is found to be that Crom- 
well and parliament both felt that the government 



1057.] SECOND . .V8TALLATION. 411 

would be more firmly settled with a king than with a 
protector. The latter title was new, and seemed merely 
provisional, while the former was deeply rooted in 
men's hearts, and claimed, in spite of themselves, their 
reverence. The government, to the minds of all, seemed 
incomplete and unfixed, while the throne was vacant. 
It is not easy to change the current of a whole nation's 
feelings into a new channel, and cause an entire trans- 
fer of its reverence. On the other hand, to accept the 
title was simply to change the name, nothing more ; for 
Cromwell was, in fact, king of Great Britain, and he 
knew it. He regarded it, as he said, " no more than 
a feather in a cap ;" and was swayed entirely by mo- 
tives of expediency. He demanded, and received, 
all the courtesies of manner and language from foreign 
monarchs, and all the reverence from foreign ambassa- 
dors due to a king : he wielded all the power at home 
and abroad, and stood higher in the admiration and 
respect of the world, than any crowned head in it. 
To suppose it was a matter of any personal conse- 
quence to him, whether he received the mere title, is 
absurd ; and would make him as weak as some would 
make him criminal. That so great an idiot and so 
timid a man should have ruled England with such a 
strong hand and consummate ability, demands an expla- 
nation never yet vouchsafed. 

The next month, June 26th, a new inauguration of 
the Protector took place. This was done in Westmin- 
ster Hall — Cromwell standing at the upper end, in front 
of a magnificent chair of state, and the vast throng 



412 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

before and below him. The Speaker advancing, 
presented him with a robe of purple, bound with 
ermine, a superb Bible, heavily gilt and embossed — and 
girding a sword to his side, placed a sceptre of gold 
in his hand. The oath was then administered, followed 
by a fervent prayer from the chaplain, invoking the 
blessing of heaven on the Protector, the parliament and 
people. Cromwell then rose from his knees, and sat 
down, with the French and Dutch ambassadors by his 
side ; while near by him, on either hand, were the Earl 
of March and Lord Mayor of London, bearing the 
sword of state, and of the city. Behind him stood hi& 
numerous family, and the three lords of the council. 
For a moment all was still — but at a given signal 
the trumpets rang out their jubilee, the heralds pro- 
claimed the title of Lord-Protector, and the assembled 
thousands shook the lofty building that enclosed them, 
with, " Long live the Lord-Protector !" " God save the 
Lord-Protector!" He then rose, and bowing to the 
ambassadors, walked in state to his carriage, and pro- 
ceeded to Whitehall. 

Parliament immediately adjourned for six months, to 
$ive him time to organize the upper House, provided 
for in the " Petition and Advice." 

During the autumn months that followed, the war 
with Spain was carried triumphantly forward, and 
England took rapid strides towards the maritime great- 
ness she afterwards reached. 

About the same time, another expedition was fitted 
out, under Reynolds and Montague, the former to com- 



1657.] LEAGUE WITH FRANCE. 413 

mand the land, and the latter the sea, forces, to operate 
against the Spanish power in the Netherlands. A 
league had been entered into with France, by which 
she was to furnish 20,000 men, and England 6,000 and 
a fleet ; and the combined forces to march on Grave- 
lines, Mardike and Dunkirk. France was to have 
Gravelines for her share, and England the other two 
towns, which being seaports, would give her great 
advantage in any difficulties with continental powers. 
Cromwell promptly performed his part of the contract 
but the artful Mazarin endeavored to divert the expe 
dition from the coast towns, to places inland. The 
Protector penetrated his policy at once, and gave him 
to understand, most distinctly, that he would have no 
double-dealing, which brought the wily Duke to a 
more strait-forward course, and Mardike was soon be- 
seiged, and in September, taken. The next month, the 
Spaniards, under the Duke of York, made a desperate 
attempt to recover it, but were repulsed with terrible 
loss. The combined armies then moved forward upon 
Dunkirk : the place, however, did not surrender till the 
next summer. 

A remonstrance to the Grand Seignor, in August, for 
the unlawful seizure of an English ship — the weddings 
of his two daughters,* spoken of before — Frances, the 
youngest and most beautiful of his children, to Robert 
Rich, son of Lord Rich, and grandson of the Earl of 
Warwick, and Mary, to Lord Faulconbridge,f were the 
principal events between the prorogation of parliament, 
* In November t Or Fauccnberg 



414 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

in June, and its re-assembling, on the first of Janu- 
ary, 1658. 

The marriage festivities had scarcely subsided, before 
Cromwell was compelled to throw himself again into 
the conflicts which had already sapped the vigor of his 
life, and would, in a few months, place him in his grave. 

Owing to his feeble health, he addressed only a short 
speech to parliament, leaving Nathaniel Fiennes to 
finish what he wished to say. 

It required no piophet to foretell a stormy session 
to this parliament. The hundred members excluded 
last year, had been returned, and were burning to 
revenge themselves on the Protector. 

The New House which was designed to take the 
place of the Chamber of Peers, was found to consist 
of onl) T a little over forty members, although sixty-one 
had been summoned : — among them we find Richard and 
Henry Cromwell. No sooner was the lower House 
organized, than Scott and Haselrig — leading the opposi- 
tion, refused to acknowledge the New House, as a 
House of Lords, and entered upon a furious debate 
respecting the name it should bear. Four days were 
spent in this manner, and on the fifth, Cromwell sum- 
moned both Houses to meet him at Whitehall, where 
he addressed them in a long and earnest speech, appeal- 
ing to them by the sufferings and welfare of their 
common country, by their love of truth and religion, to 
cease their wranglings, and commence, at once, the 
settlement of the affairs of the nation. He spoke of the 
agitations on the continent, and the danger w r hich 



1658.] SPEECH TO PARLIAMENT. 415 

threatened Protestantism on every side, as strong 
motives for them to act as statesmen. He then turned 
to domestic matters, saying, "I beseech you, look to 
your own affairs at home, how they stand. I am per- 
suaded you are all — I apprehend you are all honest, 
worthy and good men, and that there is not a man of 
you, but would desire to be found a good patriot. I 
know you wou! 1. We are apt to boast somewhat, that 
we are Englishmen ; and truly it is no shame for us 
that we are Englishmen ; but it is a motive to .us to do 
like Englishmen, and seek the real good of the nation, 
and the interest of it. But, I beseech you, what is our 
case at home ? I profess I do not well know where to 
begin on this head, or where to end — I do not. * * * 
We are full of calamities, and of divisions amongst us 
in respect of the spirits of men, though, through a won- 
derful, admirable, and never to be sufficiently admired 
providence of God, in peace. And the fighting we 
have had, and the success we have had — yea, we that 
are here, we are an astonishment to the world. And 
take us in that temper we are in, or rather distemper, 
it is the greatest miracle that ever befel the sons of men, 
that we are got again to peace. And whoever shall 
seek to break it, God Almighty root that man out of the 
nation ! And he will do it, let the pretences be what 
they may /" And further, he said, with his soul all on 
fire — that those who would not stop in their course, to 
consider what became of the next generation, "must 
have the heart of a Cain, who was marked, and made 
an enemy to all men — all men enemies to him For 



416 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

the wrath and justice of God will persecute such a man 
to the grave, if not to hell" He continued for a whiie in 
this energetic strain, carried away by the picture the dis- 
tracted country presented to his imagination, and finally 
asked them what kind of government they expected to 
adopt, or what " model would satisfy the minds of men," 
if not the one they were called together upon ? What 
else hindered the nation from being an Aceldama — a 
field of blood ?" The soldiers, he said, were unpaid, 
and going barefoot in that January month, through the 
streets of the city, yet cheerful withal, and ready to 
suffei for the good of the Commonwealth ; " and he who 
had no due sense cf this, had a heart as hard as the 
weather." 

Having thus spoken of the danger from enemies 
without, and cavaliers at home — of the horrors of war 
and the blessings of peace, he added that if they still per- 
sisted in provoking " distraction and cruel war, it would 
be said, It is all over with England" Still he trusted 
God would not leave them to such a course — " and," said 
he, " while I live, and am able, I shall be ready to stand 
and fall with you, in this seemingly promising union, 
which God hath wrought among you, which I hope 
neither the pride nor envy of man shall be able to make 
void. I have taken my oath to govern according to 
the laws that are now made, and I trust that I shall 
fully answer it. And know, I sought not this place. 1 
speak it before God, angels and men — 1 did not. You 
sought me for it. You brought me to it, and I took my 
oath to be faithful to the interests of these nations — to 



1658.] HIS DANGEROUS POSITION. 41 

be faithful to the government, * * * and I shall, I must 
see it done according to the articles of government — 
that every just sentiment may be preserved — that a 
godly ministry may be upheld, and not offended by 
seducing and seduced spirits — that all men may be pre- 
served in their just rights, whether civil or spiritual. 
Upon this account did I take oath, and swear to this 
government. And so having declared my heart and 
mind to you, on this, I have nothing more hut to pray 
God Almighty to bless you." 

This was spoken extempore, in all the sincerity and 
earnestness of his overflowing heart. He saw the na- 
tion but just settled into quietness, again agitated by reck- 
less enemies, and revengeful men, and he made a last and 
noble appeal to them to pause. By their children — by 
the liberties for which they had fought — by the glory 
of England, and the good of the church, he besought 
them to arrest the parricidal hand. 

Noble, but vain effort! His enemies, too selfish to 
place their country before the gratification of theii 
passions, let everything drive towards irremediable ruin 
For ten days more, the same debate went on, while 
conspirators, taking advantage of the hostile position of 
parliament, rallied for a new effort. A pamphlet had 
been issued only a short time previous, entitled, " Kill 
ing no Murder," in which the writer boldly asserted 
that it was no crime to slay Cromwell. The Duke of 
Ormond had entered London in disguise, and was con 
certing, with royalists and republicans a new insur 
rection. But Oliver, whose police-system nothing could 



418 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

escape, was aware of his presence; yet, instead of 
hanging him on the gate-posts of the city, (as he would 
have been perfectly justifiable in doing,) he quietly told 
Lord Broghil to advise his old friend to depart. Scot- 
land threatened a new invasion ; and the enemies of 
the Commonwealth, elated at the conduct of parliament, 
were moving on every side — and every day was big 
with fears and perils. Cromwell stood in the midst of 
the gathering storm, sad and thoughtful — his noble heart 
wrung with bitter disappointment ; yet, high and reso- 
lute as ever. He had once said, that he would be 
rolled into his grave, sooner than see the government 
of the Commonwealth overthrown ; and to that de- 
termination he still inflexibly held. No one knows the 
wakeful nights and anxious days he passed, while every- 
thing trembled on the brink of ruin — reluctant again to 
use his power arbitrarily. But, at length, impelled by 
the momentarily increasing danger, he roused himself 
to the effort ; and suddenly snatching up his hat, and 
waving his hand to a few of his guards — without wait- 
ing for his carriage — flung himself into a hack, and 
drove to the House of Lords. Assembling there the 
lower House, he addressed them bo^h together, in that 
brief and impressive manner in whicn he always spoke 
when highly excited. Said he, " My lords, and gentle- 
men of the House of Commons, I had a very com- 
fortable expectation, that God would make the meeting 
of this parliament a blessing; and the Lord be my 
witness, / desired the carrying on the affairs of the 
nation to these ends. The blessing which I mean, and 



1658.] HIS LAST SPEECH. 41S 

which we ever climbed at, was mercy, truth, right- 
eousness, and peace — which I desired might be improved. 
That which brought me into the capacity I now stand 
in, was the " Petition and Advice," given me by you ; 
who, in reference to the present constitution, did draw 
me to accept the place of Protector. There is not a 
man living could say I sought it — no, not a man or 
woman freading upon English ground. But, con- 
templating the sad condition of these nations, relieved 
from an intestine war, into a six or seven years peace, 
I did think the nation happy therein. But, to be 
petitioned thereunto, and advised by you to undertake 
such a government — a burden too heavy for any crea- 
ture, and this to be done by the House that then had 
the legislative capacity — certainly I did look that the 
same men who had made the power, should make it 
good unto me. / can say, in the presence of God, in 
comparison with whom we are but like poor creeping 
ants upon the earth, I would have been glad to have 
lived under my woodside, to have kept a flock of sheep, 
rather than undertaken such a government as this." 

What a mixture of noble melancholy, and firm pur- 
pose, is exhibited in these sentences! Every word car- 
ries conviction of sincerity. He speaks as he feels ; 
and bearing down everything by the simple majesty of 
truth, awakens all our sympathy, while he claims our 
unbounded admiration. 

After thus relieving his heart, he went on to speak of 
the dangers that threatened the government : — an inva- 
sion he said, was 'n preparation — a conspiracy, in that 



420 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

very city, was all ripe for an outbreak ; nay, he declared 
lhat honorable members were endeavoring to seduce the 
army from its allegiance ; and wound up with the terrible 
accusation — " Some of you have been listing of per- 
sons, by commission of Charles Stuart, to join with 
any insurrection that may be made. And, what is 
like to come of this, the enemy being ready to invade 
us, but ever present blood and confusion ? And, if 
this be so, I do assign it to this cause — your not assent- 
ing to what you did invite me to by your Petition and 
Advice, as that which might prove the settlement of the 
nation. And if this be the end of your sitting, and 
this be your carriage, I think it high time that an end 
be put to your sitting. And I do dissolve this parlia- 
ment. And God judge beetween me and you." "Amen !" 
fell from the lips of some of the most desperate ; and 
this last Protectorate parliament disappeared. " It was 
high time;" for Samuel Hartlib, a friend of Milton, in 
writing to a friend, says, "If their session had continued 
but two or three days longer, all had been in blood, botl 
in city and country, upon Charles Stuart's account." 

Here was another " act of despotism ;" but one, if 
he had not committed, he would have broken his solemr 
oath, and showed that he cared more for his own repu- 
tation, than for the common weal. "Let God judge be- 
tween you and me," he exclaimed ; and, he might add, 
between me and my accusers to the end of time, and 
ir. the judgment of the Great Day. 

No sooner was this parliament dissolved, than he 
fommenced arresting the ringleaders of the conspiracy 



1658. J PLOTS .vGA INST HIS LIFE. 421 

Summoning his followers about him, he explained how 
matters stood, and asked if they would peimit the 
enemies of the Commonwealth to overthrow it ? They 
answered, "We will stand and fall with your Highness 
— we will live and die with you?' A hundred and sixty 
brave fellows, selected from his different regiments of 
cavalry, divided into eight companies, became his body- 
guard ; ten of whom were always on duty about his 
person. On these he could rely ; and unflinching and 
bold must be the man, and quick the assassin's knife, that 
could reach him then. The plotters were one after 
another thrown into prison, and a High Court of Justice 
nominated to try offenders. The Protector had over- 
looked and pardoned long enough ; and now he would 
show assassins what kind of a man they had to deal 
with : Sir Henry Slingsby and Dr. Hewet, were among 
the first arrested. The former, a prisoner in Hull, and 
an uncle of his son-in-law, Lord Fauconberg, had been 
seducing the officers into a betrayal of their trust — the 
latter, a doctor of divinity, had desecrated his office, by 
mingling in the plots of murderers. 

Thus passed the early spring. On the 15th of May, 
the royalists had resolved to rise in London, with beat 
of drum, and burn and slay ; but Cromwell, who had 
known all their proceedings from the beginning, ordered 
his troops to seize them just on the verge of the ap- 
pointed hour. Ten days after, Slingsby and Hewet, 
with three others, were tried. The two former, in 
spite of the strenuous exertions made by their friends, 
were condemned, and perished on the scaffold. Ho 



422 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

thus smote the monster insurrection, with blow after 
blow ; and, by June, peace was restored. Royalism 
had sunk affrighted ; and Levellers and Fifth Monarchy 
men, betook themselves to silence. 

At this time, also, came the news of the taking of 
Dunkirk — of the glorious battle fought with the Spanish 
army, fifteen thousand strong, sent to relieve it — and 
of the resolute daring of the six thousand British troops 
that alone gained the victory. Great rejoicings fol- 
lowed ; and England and France stood linked in closer 
brotherhood. 

CROMWELL'S SICKNESS AND DEATH. 

The summer which witnessed his triumph at home 
and abroad witnessed, also, the final wreck of the 
iron frame of Oliver Cromwell. Inured by a life of 
exposure and toil, his natural strength had been increased, 
and he bid fair to reach even beyond the allotted age 
of man. But his constant anxieties and uneasiness 
made deeper inroads than the most arduous campaign ; 
and for some time he had been evidently failing. To 
add to his misery, and complete the ruin of his health, 
family afflictions came in rapid succession and bore 
him to the earth. A few days after the dissolution of 
parliament, his son-in-law, Mr. Rich, died, leaving his 
daughter Frances a widow. The Earl of Warwick, 
his grandfather, followed him next month ; and while 
the country was ringing with the brave deeds of 
thr army around Dunkirk the Lad) Claypole, his 



1658] HIS SICKNESS AND DEATH. 423 

favorite daughter, was taken sick with a fatal and most 
painful disease. The Protector was forgotten in the 
father ; and hurrying to Hampton Court, he took his 
place by her bed-side, overwhelmed with sorrow. Her 
convulsions, and cries of distress, tore his heart-strings 
asunder, and shook that strong and affectionate nature 
to its foundations. His kingdom, his power, the Com- 
monwealth, were all forgotten ; and for fourteen days 
he bent over his beloved child, until, at length, his 
over-tasked frame gave way. On the 6th of August 
she died ; and Cromwell, on his bed of sickness, was 
told the heart-breaking news. Beautiful, and beloved 
by all, she had just entered on life and its joys, when 
she was hurried away. Her noble father was soon to 
follow. He rallied a little at first, and was able, one 
day, to ride out to take the air ; but he returned ex- 
hausted to his palace. It was the last time that form 
was ever seen amid his life-guards ; and the " waft of 
death," which George Fox said he saw "go forth 
against him there," any one might have seen who had 
gazed on his pallid face. Disease and sorrow striking 
together, had reached the citadel of life. 

On the 24th, he again took to his room, prostrated by 
what was then called a tertian ague. On hearing his 
physician pronounce his pulse intermittent, he started ; 
and requesting to be placed in bed, called for pen and 
paper, and executed his last instructions. The next 
morning, he was better ; and taking his wife by the 
hand, bade her not be alarmed, as he should yet recover 
He believed ?,nd said, that the prayers of God's childien 



424 OLIVER CROMWELL 

would prevail, and he would be spared. Being moved 
for change of air, to Whitehall, he continued to grow 
worse ; the fever became a double tertian, and the 
chills and fever frequent and prostrating. Delirium 
followed ; but in the intervals of reason, he was calm 
and collected. On one of these occasions, he requested 
the chaplain to read from the Epistle of Paul to the 
Philippians, the passage beginning, " Not that I speak 
in respect of want, for I have learned in whatever state 
I am, therewith to be content. I can do all things, 
through Christ which strengtheneth me. Notwith- 
standing, ye have well done that ye did communicate 
w r ith my afflictions." Here, Cromwell interrupted him, 
murmuring in broken accents : " This scripture did 
once save my life, when my eldest son died, which went 
like a dagger to my heart — indeed, it did." Where 
he died ; in what battle he fell, no one knows ; but 
here, on the verge of the eternal world, the long 
pent-up sorrow bursts forth ; and the dying father 
mourns, in heart-broken grief, over his brave son, cut 
down in the morning of life by his side. He then asked 
if it was possible to fall from a state of grace. On being 
told that it was not, he was satisfied. Doubtless, the 
struggles, and anxieties, and constant occupation of his 
thoughts by public matters had driven him, of late, from 
those spiritual contemplations he formerly delighted in : 
and hence, he now referred to them with joy and hope. 
Continuing to grow worse, he was asked to name his 
successor. He referred them to a sealed paper in 
Hampton Couit, drawn up a year ago. It was imme 



165S.] his last hours. 425 

diately sent for, but could not be found ; and not untii 
the night before his death, was he heard to name 
Richard. In the intervals of his suffering, he spoke 
incessantly of the goodness of God ; and forgetting him- 
self in his anxiety for the church, prayed: "Lord, 
though I am a miserable and wretched creature, I am 
in covenant with Thee through grace. And I may — I 
will come to thee for Thy people. Thou hast made me, 
though very unworthy, a mean instrument to do them 
good and Thee service : and many of them have set too 
high a value upon me, though others would wish and 
would be glad of my death : Lord, however Thou dost 
dispose of me, continue to go on and do good for them. 
Give them consistency of judgment, one heart, and 
mutual love ; and go on to deliver them, and with the 
work of reformation ; and make the name of Christ 
glorious in the world. Teach those who look too much 
on Thy instruments, to depend more upon Thyself. 
Pardon such as desire to trample upon the dust of a 
poor worm, for they are Thy people, too. And pardon 
the folly of this short prayer : even for Christ's sake. 
And give us a good night, if it be Thy pleasure. Amen." 
At length the last night drew on that was to usher in his 
fortunate day. The 3d of September, the anniversary 
of Dunbar, and of Marston, came amid wind and storm. 
In this solemn hour for England, strong hearts were 
everywhere beseeching heaven to spare the Protector : 
but the King of Kings had issued his decree ; and the 
spirit that had endured and toiled so long, was already 
gathering its pinions for eternity. " It is a fearful thing 



426 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

to fall into the hands of the living God," broke thence 
from his pallid lips, and then he fell, in solemn faith on 
the covenant of grace. His breath came difficult and 
thick ; but amid the pauses of the storm, he was heard 
murmuring, " Truly God is good ; indeed He is ; He will 
not " his tongue failed him ; " but, says an eye-wit- 
ness,* " I apprehend it was, ' He will not leave me' " 
Again and again there escaped from the ever-moving 
lips the half-articulate words "God is good — God is 
good." Once, with sudden energy, he exclaimed, " 1 
would be willing to live, to be further serviceable to God 
and his people ; but my work is done. Yet God will be 
with his people!' All night long, he murmured thus to 
himself of God ; showing how perfect was his trust — 
how strong his faith. Once, as some drink was offered 
him, he said, " It is not my design to drink or to sleep ; 
but my design is to make what haste I can to be gone.'' 
While this scene was passing in that solemn cham- 
ber, all was wild and terrible without. Nature seemed 
to sympathize with the dying patriot and hero. The 
wind howled and roared around the palace ; houses 
were unroofed ; chimneys blown down ; and trees, that 
had stood for half a century in the parks, were uptorn, 
and strewn over the earth. The sea, too, w T as vexed — 
the waves smote, in ungovernable fury, the shores of 
England ; and vessels lay stranded along the coasts of 
thfl Mediterranean. It was a night when there are, 

" As they say, 
Lamentings heard i' the air ; strange screams of death. 
* Underwood. 



*658.] HIS DEATH. 427 

And prophesying, with accents terrible 
Of dire commotion, and confused events 
Now hatched to the woeful time. * * 
* * * * some say the earth 

Was feverous and did shake." 

But all was calm and serene around the dying bed 
of Cromwell. On that more than kingly brow, peace, 
like a white winged dove, sate ; and that voice which 
had turned the tide of so many battles, now murmur- 
ed only prayers. Bonaparte, dying in the midst of 
just such a storm, shouted, " Tete d'armei" as his glaz- 
ing eye fell once more on the heads of his mighty 
columns disappearing in the smoke of battle; but 
Cromwell took a noble departure. The storm and 
uproar without, brought no din of arms to his dying 
ear — not in the delirium of battle did his soul burst 
away ; but, with his eye fixed steadfastly on the " eter- 
nal kingdoms," and his strong heart sweetly stayed on 
the promise of a faithful God, he moved from the shore 
of time, and sank from sight for ever. 

He died at three o'clock that day — on the very day, 
which, eight years before, saw his sword flashing over 
the tumultuous field of Dunbar — the same which, seven 
years previous, heard him shouting on the ramparts of 
Worcester. But this was the last and most terrible 
battle of all ; yet he came off victorious ; and triumph- 
ing over his last enemy, death, passed into that serene 
world, where the sound of battle never comes, and the 
hatred and violence of men never disturb. 

Thus perished CromweT in his fifty-ninth year ; and 



428 OLIVER CROMWELL 

those who stood and gazed on the motionless features, 
and pallid lips, whose slightest motion so lately made 
nations tremble, exclaimed, " A great man is fallen in 
Israel!" — ah, the noblest ruler that ever filled an Eng- 
lish throne. With him sunk for a time the Protestant- 
ism of England ; and Popery and royalty breathed free 
again. But the principles he established remained im- 
movable ; and finally, thirty years after, drove the last 
Stuart out of the British empire. They burst into new 
life in this country, and are now scattered like good 
seed over Europe, where they have ever since been 
taking root ; and will, eventually, bring forth the fruit 
of universal liberty. 

His body, embalmed, and wrapt in a sheet of lead, 
lay concealed from public gaze, until the 26th of 
September, when it was removed to Somerset House, 
where it remained in state till the 23d of November. 
The most imposing ceremonies honored his burial ; and 
he was carried in all " the pomp and circumstance of 
woe," to Westminster Abbey, where he lay in peace, 
till a Stuart dug up his bones, and hung them on a 
gallows — the lowest revenge of an ingoble soul. 

Richard, too weak to rule, no sooner found the 
movement against him strong, than he resigned his 
Protectorate; and Charles II., "king by the grace of 
God," ascended the throne, and turned his court into a 
brothel, and sunk England in vice and corruption 
Mistresses directed the affairs of State ; and those who 
had struggled so nobly for the liberty of their country 
were tried, imprisoned, and executed. 



1658.] HIS CHARACTER. 421) 

We har«5 endeavored to exhibit the character of 
Cromwell in passing — let events illustrate him, rather 
than theones. That he was a man of great contra- 
dictions, no one can doubt. To-day, stern, cold, and 
inflexible — to-morrow, kind, tender, and almost melan- 
choly — at one moment solemn, devout, given to prayer 
and exhortation — at another, boisterous, excited, and 
full of practical jokes — now frolicking with a coarse 
trooper, and now awing kings by his haughty frown — a 
cool commander, and fiery enthusiast ; he moves, as- 
tonishes, and alarms us by turns. His boisterous laugh 
around the camp fire has hardly died away, before his 
earnest, thrilling prayer chains every ear and kindles 
every eye. He will storm like a madman through the 
breach of Drosrheda, and shout his followers on in their 
work of slaughter; and yet bursts into an agony of 
tears over the sufferings of the children of God in the 
mountains of Piedmont. 

There is a striking similarity between his career and 
that of Bonaparte. Both claimed gentle blood, yet both, 
in reality, belonged to the middle class. Both owed their 
elevation to their military prowess, and gradually fought 
their way up from a subordinate capacity, to com- 
mander-in-chief of the army. Cromwell, finding the 
government unequal to the wants of the nation, broke it 
up by his musketeers ; Bonaparte, discovering the same 
thing in France, dispersed the Council of Five Hundred 
with his grenadiers. The former mounted to the place 
of Charles I. and the latter to that of Louis XVI. They 
were both regarded as plebeians by the monarchs of 



430 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

Europe ; yet no sovereign with the blood of a thousand 
kings in his veins, ever wielded a sceptre so powerful, 
or commanded such unbounded respect and fear, as 
they. But here the similarity ends. Bonaparte no 
sooner gained supreme power, than he endeavored to 
consolidate and perpetuate it, while Cromwell used his 
solely to give strength to the government ; and yielded it 
up as fast as he could with safety. Napoleon felt that 
France was safest in his keeping, and seemed not to 
think of the future. But Oliver, more thoughtful and 
conscientious, contemplated the generations to come, 
and labored to settle, before he died, the principles of 
liberty, in the nation. He removed the major-generals, 
as soon as it could be done without danger — grew less 
and less severe towards other sects — equalized the repre- 
sentation in England, as it never before had been done 
— transferred his authority to parliament, without re- 
serving to himself even the veto power, and became 
more and more liberal and tolerant the firmer he be- 
came fixed in his place. 

His administration, is now generally conceded to 
have been one of the ablest with which England was 
ever blessed. He fostered institutions of learning — 
gave free scope to every branch of industry, and raised 
the legal profession higher than it had ever before 
stood. 

Tn the revival of commerce — by his conquests in the 
West Indies, and the triumph of his fleets everywhere — ■ 
he established the maritime ascendency of England ; 
and in the management of affairs at home and abroad, 



1658.] HIS CHARACTER. 431 

exhibited a grasp of thought, and a practical power, 
combined with an earnestness and purity of purpose, 
which England may in vain look for in any other 
sovereign. Had he lived longer, so as to have consoli- 
dated the government, and seen most of his restless 
contemporaries safe under ground, or even left a son 
but half equal to himself, the destiny of England would 
have been different, and its after history, very possibly 
that of a republic. 

Of his religious character we have already spoken 
No one can read his letters without believing in his 
sincerty. The purity of God's Church on earth, was 
ever uppermost in his mind; and he strove to give 
Christianity that prominence in the nation it ought to 
hold, and must hold, to secure continued prosperity. 
Protestantism never had an abler or nobler cham- 
pion. True, there was a great deal of cant in the re- 
ligion of those times — probably there never was such a 
mixture of hypocrisy and sincerity, fanaticism and true 
godliness, as under the Commonwealth of England. 
When all were more or less affected by the spirit that 
was abroad, and men talked in Bible language, and 
troopers preached and prayed with each other, and par- 
liament itself was frequently turned into a prayer- 
meeting, it is not to be expected that Cromwell should 
be free from religious peculiarities. Probably one cause 
of the great influence he obtained over the soldiers, 
was the strong, religious excitement, that, at times, 
mastered him, and caused him to make those wild and 
stirring appeals which wrought them into such enthu- 



432 OLIVER CROMWELL. 

siasm. Frequently, just before an engagement, his 
eye would kindle, and his countenance light up with 
prophetic fire, and the words of Isaiah or David roll in 
tremulous accents from his quivering lips, till every 
sword leaped from its scabbard. 

In these respects, he was unlike all other military 
leaders of modern times. He sung psalms when he went 
into battle, and consulted the Bible in his campaigns as 
much as his maps, and quoted Scripture to parliament 
— all of which may seem very weak in our day ; but 
they detracted nothing from the strength and majesty 
of Cromwell's character. A strong, sincere, and re- 
ligious man — a Christian of Moses' *time, if we may 
use the term, rather than of ours — who read the Old 
Testament much, and the Gospel little ; pondered the 
dispensation of law, more than that of grace ; under- 
stood the lofty language of David, better than the meek 
words of John ; loved the commandments more than 
the beatitudes — a fierce fighter, a good ruler, and a stern 
patriot, was Oliver Cromwell. He is outliving his tra- 
ducers ; and will be honored by man long after thrones 
have been cast aside as useless things. 

He had his faults and committed many errors ; but, 
as Carlyle says, it must be remembered that the career 
he was forced into was anything but "dancing a 
minuet." 



APPENDIX. 



No. 1. 

Petition of Right. — Humbly show unto our sovereign lord ill* 
king, the lords spiritual and temporal, and commons, in parlia- 
ment assembled, That, whereas it is declared and enacted by a 
statute made in the time of the reign of king Edward I. commonly 
called Statutum de tallagio non concedendo, that no tallage or aid 
shall be levied by the king or his heirs in this realm, without the 
good-will and assent of the archbishops, bishops, earls, barons, 
knights, burgesses, and other the freemen of the commonalty of 
this realm; and, by authority of parliament, holden in the five 
and twentieth year of the reign of king Edward HI. it is de- 
clared and enacted, That, from thenceforth, no person shall be 
compelled to make any loans to the king against his will, because 
such loans were against reason, and the franchise of the land : 
and, by other laws of this realm, it is provided, that none should 
be charged by any charge or imposition called a benevolence, or 
by such like charge : by which the statutes before-mentioned, 
and other the good laws and statutes of this realm, your subjects 
have inherited this freedom, that they should not be compelled to 
contribute to any tax, tallage, aid, or other like charge, not set by 
common consent in parliament. 

II. Yet nevertheless, of late divers commissions directed to 
sundry commissioners in several counties, with instructions, have 
issued ; by means whereof your people have been in divers places 
assembled, and required to lend certain sums of money unto your 
majesty, and many of them, upon their refusal so to do, have had 
an oath administered unto them not warrantable by the laws ot 
statutes of this realm, and have been constrained to become bcLr.d 
to make appearance and give attendance before your privy council, 
and in other places : and others of them have been therefore im- 
prisoned, confined, and sundry other ways molested and disquieted ; 
ami divers other charges have been laid and levied upon youi 
people, in several counties, by lord-lieutenants, deputy-lieutenants, 
19 



431 APPENDIX. 

commissioners for musters, justices of peace, and others, by com 
mand or direction from your majesty, or your privy-council, 
against the laws and free customs of this realm. 

[IT. And whereas also, by the statute called The great charter 
of the liberties of England, it is declared and enacted, That no 
freeman may be taken or imprisoned, or be disseized of his free- 
hold or liberties, or his free customs, or be outlawed or exiled, or 
in any manner destroyed, but by the lawful judgment of his peers, 
or by the law of the land, 

IV. And, in the eighth and twentieth year of the reign of king 
Edward 111. it was declared and enacted, by authority of parlia- 
ment, That no man, of what estate or condition that he be, should 
be put out of his land or tenements, nor taken, nor imprisoned, 
nor disinherited, nor put to death, without being brought to 
answer by due process of law. 

V. Nevertheless, against the tenor of the said statutes, and 
other the good laws and statutes of your realm to that end provi- 
ded, divers of your subjects have of late been imprisoned without 
any cause showed ; and, when, for their deliverance, they were 
brought before justice, by your majesty's writs of Habeas Corpus, 
there to undergo, and receive as the court should order, and their 
keepers commanded to certify the causes of their detainer, no 
cauee was certified, but that they were detained by your majesty's 
special command, signified by the lords of your privy-council, and 
yet were returned back to several prisons, without being charged 
with anything to which they might make answer according to the 
law. 

VI. And whereas of late great companies of soldiers and mari- 
ners have been dispersed into divers counties of the realm, and the 
inhabitants, against their wills, have been compelled to receive 
them into their houses, and there to suffer them to sojourn, against 
the laws and customs of this realm, and to the great grievance and 
vexation of the people. 

VII. And whereas also, by authority of parliament, in the five 
and twentieth year of the reign of king Edward III. it is declared 
and enacted, That no man shall be forejudged of life or limb 
against the form of the Great Charter and law of the land : and, 
by the said Great Charter, and other the laws and statutes of this 
your realm, no man ought to be judged to death but by the laws 
established in this your realm, either by the customs of the same 
realm, or by acts of parliament : and whereas no offender, of what 
kind soever, is exempte.l from the proceedings to be used, and 
punishments to be inflicted by the laws and statutes of this youi 
realm : nevertheless, of late divers commissions, under your 
majesty's great seal, have issued forth, by which certa'n persons 
have been assigned and appointed commissioners, with power anJ 
authority to proceed within the land, according to the justice of 



APPENDIX. 435 

martial law, against such soldiers and mariners, or other dissolute 
persons joining with them, as should commit any murther, robbery, 
felony, mutiny, or other outrage or misdemeanor whatsoever, and 
by such summary course and order as is agreeable to martial law, 
and as is used in armies in time of war, to proceed to the trial and 
condemnation of such offenders, and them to cause to be executed 
and put to death according to the law martial. 

VIII. By pretext whereof some of your majesty's subjects have 
been by some of the said commissioners put to death, when and 
where, if, by the laws and statutes of the land, they had deserved 
death, by the same laws and statutes also they might, and by no 
other ought, to have been judged and executed. 

IX. And also sundry grievous offenders, by color thereof claim- 
ing an exemption, have escaped the punishments due to them by 
the laws and statutes of this your realm, by reason that divers of 
your officers and ministers of justice have unjustly refused or for- 
borne to proceed against such offenders according to the same laws 
and statutes, upon pretence that the said offenders were punishable 
only by martial law, and by authority of such commissions as 
aforesaid : which commissions, and all other of like nature, are 
wholly and directly contrary to the said laws and statutes of this 
your realm. 

X. They do therefore humbly pray your most excellent majesty, 
That no man hereafter be compelled to make or yield any gift, loan, 
benevolence, tax, or such like charge, without common consent, 
by act of parliament : and that none be called to make answer, or 
take such oath, or to give attendance, or he confined, or otherwise 
molested or disquieted, concerning the same, or for refusal thereof : 
and that no freeman, in any such manner as is before-mentioned, 
be imprisoned or detained : and that your majesty would be pleased 
to remove the said soldiers and mariners, and that people may not 
be so burthened in time to come ; and that the aforesaid commis- 
sions, for proceeding by martial law, may be revoked and annul- 
led : and that hereafter no commissions of like nature may issue 
forth, to any person or persons whatsoever, to be executed as 
aforesaid, lest, by color of them, any of your majesty's subjects 
be destroyed, or put to death, contrary to the. laws and franchise 
of the land. 

XI. All which they most humbly pray of your most excellent 
majesty, as their rights and liberties, according to the laws and 
statutes of this rearm: and that your majesty would also vouch- 
safe to declare, That the awards, doings, and proceedings to the 
prejudice of your people, in any of the premises, shall not be 
drawn hereafter into consequence or example: and that your 
majesty would be also graciously pleased, for the further comfort 
and safety of your people, to declare your royal will and pleasure, 
that ii the things aforesaid, all your officers and ministers shall 



K36 A P P E N D I X . 

serve you according to the laws and statutes of this realm, us they 
tender the honor of your majesty, and the prosperity of thil 
kingdom. — Stat. 17 Car. cap. 14. 



No. 2. 

It was in these words : " Whereas Charles Stuart, king of 
England, is and standeth convicted, attainted, and condemned of 
high treason and other high crimes ; and sentence upon Saturday 
last was pronounced against him by this court, to be put 1o death 
by the severing of his head from his body, of which sentence 
execution yet remaineth to be done. These are, therefore, to will 
and require you to see the said sentence executed in the open 
street, before Whitehall, upon the morrow, being the 30th day Df 
this instant month of January, between the hours of ten in the 
morning and five in the afternoon of the same day, with full eilect. 
And for so doing this shall be your sufficient warrant. And these 
are to require all officers, soldiers, and others, the good people of 
this nation of England, to be assisting unto you in this service. 



No. 3. 

t; To Col. Francis Hacker, Col. Kuncks, and Lieut. Col. Phray, 
and to every of them. 

" Given under our hands and seals. 
(Sealed and subscribed by) 

"John Bradshaw, Thomas Grey, Oliver Cromwell, Edward 
Whaley, Michael Livesey, John Okey, John Danvers, John 
Bourcher, Henry Ireton, Thomas Maleverer, John Blackiston, 
John Hutchinson, William Gotfe, Thomas Pride, Peter Temple, 
Thomas Harrison, John Huson, Henry Smith, Peregrine Pelham, 
Simon Meyn, Thomas Hoi ton, John Jones, John More, Hardress 
Waller, Gilbert Millington, George Fleetwood, John Alured, 
Robert Lilburn, William Say, Anthony Stapely, Richard Deane, 
Robert Tichburne, Humphrey Edwards, Daniel Blagrave, Owen 
Roe, William Purefoy, Adrian Scroope, James Temple, Augustine 
Garland, Edmond Ludlow, Henry Marten, Vincent Potter, William 
Constable, Richard Ingoldsby, William Cawley, John Barstead, 
Isaac Ewers, John Dixwell, Valentine Walton, Gregory Norton, 
Thomas Chaloner. Thomas Wogan, John Ven, Gregory Clement, 
John Downs, Thomas Wayte, Thomas Scot, John Carew, Milea 
Coibet/'— Rush., vii., 1426. 



APPENDIX. 43} 

No. 4. 

The following is the letter, together with the Queries addressed 
to the Scotch : 

For the Honorable the Governor of the Castle of Edinburgh : These. 

Edinburgh, 9th September, 1650. 

Sir — The kindness offered to the Ministers with you was done 
with ingenuity; thinking it might have met with the like; but I 
am satisfied to tell those with yon, That if their Master's service 
(as they call it) were chiefly in their eye, imagination of suffering 
would not have caused such a return ; much less " would" the 
practice of our Party, as they are pleased to say, upon the Minis- 
ters of Christ in England, have been an argument of personal 
persecution. 

The Ministers in England are supported, and have liberty to 
preach the Gospel; though not to rail, nor under pretence thereof 
to overtop the Civil Power, or debase it as they please. No man 
hath been troubled in England or Ireland for preaching the Gospel ; 
nor has any Minister been molested in Scotland since the coming 
of the Army hither. The speaking truth becomes the Ministers 
of Christ. 

When Ministers pretend to a glorious Reformation ; and lay the 
foundation thereof in getting to themselves worldly power; and 
can make worldly mixtures to accomplish the same, such as their 
late Agreement with their King ; and hope by him to carry on 
their design, ''they" may know that the Sion promised will not be 
built of such untempered mortar. 

As for the unjust Invasion they mention, time was when an 
Army of Scotland came into England, not called by the Supreme 
Authority. We have said, in our Papers, with what hearts, and 
upon what account, we came ; and the Lord hath heard us, though 
you would not, upon as solemn an appeal as any experience can 
parallel. 

And although they seem to comfort themselves with being sons 
of Jacob, from whom (they say) God hath hid His face for a time; 
yet it's no wonder when the Lord hath lifted up His hand so emi- 
nently against a Family as He hath done so often against this, and 
men will not see His hand — "it's no wonder" if the Lord hide His 
face from such; putting them to shame both for it and their hatred 
of His people; as it is this day. When they purely trust to the 
Swcrd of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, which is powerful 
to bring down strongholds and every imagination that exalts itself 
—which alone is able to square the stones for a new Jerusalem ; — 
then, and not before, and by that means and no other, shall Jerusa- 



438 APPENDIX. 

Jem, the City of the. Lord, which is to be the praise of the whol< 
Earth, be built: the Sion of the Holy One of Israel. 
I have nothing to say to you but that I am, Sir, 

Your humble servant, 

Oliver Cromwell. 

QUERIES. 

1. Whether the Lord's controversy be not both against the Minis- 
ters in Scotland and in England, for their wresting and straining 
"of the Covenant," and employing the Covenant against the Godly 
and Saints in England (of the same faith with them in every funda- 
mental) even to a bitter persecution ; and so making that which, 
in the main intention, was Spiritual, to serve Politics and Carnal 
ends — even in that part especially which was Spiritual, and did 
look to the glory of God, and the comfort of His People 1 

2. Whether the Lord's controversy be not for your and the Min- 
isters in England's sullenness at " God's great providences," and 
"your" darkening and not beholding the glory of God's wonder- 
ful dispensations in this series of His providences in England, 
Scotland and Ireland, both now and formerly — through envy at in- 
struments, and because the things did not work forth your Plat- 
form, and the Great God did not come down to your minds and 
thoughts. 

3. Whether your carrying on a Reformation, so much by you 
spoken of, have not probably been subject to some mistakes in 
your own judgments about some parts of the same — laying so 
much stress thereupon as hath been a temptation to you even to 
break the Law of Love, " the greatest of all laws," towards your 
brethren, and those " whom" Christ hath regenerated ; even to the 
reviling and persecuting of them, and to stirring up of wicked 
men to do the same, for your Form's sake, or but " for" some parts 
of it. 

4. Whether if your Reformation be so perfect and so spiritual, 
be indeed the Kingdom of the Lord Jesus, it will need such carnal 
policies, such fleshly mixtures, such unsincere actings as " some 
of these are ?" To pretend to cry down all Malignants ; and yet 
to receive and set up the Head of them "all," and to act for the 
Kingdom of Christ in his name, and upon advantage thereof ? And 
to publish so false a Paper, so full of special pretences to piety, aa 
the fruit and effect of his " repentance" — to deceive the minds of 
all the Godly in England, Ireland and Scotland; you, in your own 
consciences, knowing with what regret he did it, and with what im- 
portunities and threats he was brought to do ft, and how much to 
this very day he is against it? And whether this be not a high 
provocation of the Lord, in so grossly dissembling with Him and 
His people'? 



APPENDIX. 430 



No. 5. 



We have extracted from the speech, the portion devoted to an 
explanation of his conduct. 

I shall now begin a little to remind you of the passages that 
have been transacted since Worcester. Coming from whence, 
with the rest of my fellow Officers and Soldiers, we did expect, 
and had some reasonable confidence our expectations would not be 
frustrated, That, having such an history to look back unto, such a 
God, so eminently visible, even our enemies confessing that " God 
Himself was certainly engaged against them, else they should never 
have been disappointed in every engagement," — and that may be 
used by the way. That if we had but miscarried in the least, all 
our former mercies were in danger to be lost : — I say, coming up 
then, we had some confidence That the mercies God had shown, 
and the expectations which were upon our hearts, and upon the 
hearts of all good men, would have prompted those who were in 
Authority to do those good things which might, by honest men, 
have been judged fit for such a God, and worthy of such mercies ; 
and indeed been a discharge of duty from those to whom al) these 
mercies had been shown, for the true interest of this Nation! If I 
should now labor to be particular in enumerating how businesses 
have been transacted from that time to the Dissolution of the late 
Parliament, indeed I should be upon a theme which would be 
troublesome to myself. For I think I may say for myself and my 
fellow Officers, That we have rather desired and studied Healing and 
Looking-forward than to rake into sores and to look backward, — 
to give things forth in those colors that would not be very pleas- 
ing to any good eye to look upon. Only this we shall say for our 
own vindication, as pointing out the ground for that unavoidable 
necessity, nay even that duty that was incumbent upon us, to 
make this last great Change — I think it will not be amiss to offer a 
word or two to that. As I said before, we are loath to rake into 
businesses, were there not a necessity so to do. 

Indeed we may say that, ever since the coming-up of myself 
and those Gentlemen who have been engaged in the military part, 
it hath been full in our hearts and thoughts, to desire and use all 
the fair and lawful means we could to have the Nation reap the 
fruit of all the blood and treasure that had been spent in this Cause : 
and we have had many desires, and thiistings in our spirits, to find 
out ways and means wherein we might be anywise instrumental 
to help it forward. We were very tender, for a long time, so 
much as to petition. For some of the Officers being Members: 
and others having very good acquaintance with, and some relations 
to, divers Members of Parliament, — we did, from time to time, 
solicit such ; thinking if there had been nobody to promp 4 hern, 



440 APPENDIX. 

nor call upon them, these things might have been attended to 
from ingenuity and integrity in those that had it in their power to 
answer such expectations. 

Truly when we saw nothing would be done, we did, as we 
thought according to our duty, a little, to remind them by a Peti- 
tion ; which I suppose you have seen : it was delivered, as I 
remember in August last. What effect that had, is likewise very 
well known. The truth is, we had no return at all for our satis- 
faction, — a few words given us; the things presented by us, or the 
most of them, we were told, "were under consideration;" and 
those not presented by us had very little or no consideration at all. 
Finding the People dissatisfied in every corner of the Nation, and 
"all men" laying at our doors the non-performance of these things, 
which had been promised, and were of duty to be performed, — 
truly we did then think ourselves concerned, if we would (as be- 
comes honest men) keep up the reputation of honest men in the 
world. And therefore we, divers times, endeavored to obtain 
meetings with divers Members of Parliament ; and we did not 
begin those till about October last. And in these meetings we did, 
with all faithfulness and sincerity, beseech them that they would 
be mindful of their duty to God and men, in the discharge of the 
trust reposed in them. I believe (as there are many gentlemen 
here know), we had at least ten or twelve meetings ; most humbly 
begging and beseeching of them, That by their own means they 
would bring forth those good things which had been promised and 
expected ; that so it might appear they did not do them by anj 
suggestion from the Army, but from their own ingenuity : so ten- 
der were we to preserve them in the reputation of the People. 
Having had very many of those meetings; and declaring plainly 
that the issue would be the displeasure and judgment of God, the 
dissatisfaction of the People, the putting of "all" things into 
a confusion : yet how little we prevailed we very well know, and 
we believe it's not unknown to you. 

At last, when indeed we saw that things would not be laid to 
heart, we had a very serious consideration among ourselves what 
other ways to have recourse unto ; and when we grew to more 
closer considerations, then they " the Parliament men" began to 
take the Act for a Representative to heart, and seemed exceeding 
willing to put it on. And had it been done with integrity, there 
could nothing have happened more welcome to our judgment than 
that. But plainly the intention was, Not to give xhe People a right 
of choice ; it would have been but a seeming right; that ''sem- 
blance" of giving them a choice was only to recruit the House, the 
better to perpetuate themselves. And truly, having been, divers of 
us, spoken unto to give way hereunto, to which we made per- 
petual aversions, indeed abominating the thoughts of it- -we 
declared our judgments against it, and our dissatisfaction with it 



APPENDIX. 411 

And yet they that would not hear of a Representative formerly 
when it lay three years before them, without proceeding one line 
or making any considerable progress, — I say, those that would not 
hear of this Bill formerly, did now, when they saw us falling into 
more closer considerations, make, instead of protracting their Bill, 
as much prosperous haste with it on the other side, and run into 
that " opposite" extremity. 

Finding that this spirit was not according to God ; and that the 
whole weight of this Cause — which must needs be very dear unto 
us who had so often adventured our lives for it, and we believe it 
was so to you — did hang upon the business now in hand ; and 
seeing plainly that there was not here any consideration to assert 
this Cause, or provide security for it, but only to cross the trouble- 
some people of the Army, who by this time were high enough 
in their displeasures : Truly, I say, when we saw all this, having 
power in our hands, " we could not resolve" to let such monstrous 
proceedings go on, and so to throw away all our liberties into the 
hands of those whom we had fought against : we came, first, to 
this conclusion among ourselves, That if we had been fought out 
of our liberties and rights, Necessity would have taught us pa- 
tience ; but that to deliver them " sluggishly" up would render us the 
basest persons in the world, and worthy to be accounted haters of 
God and of his People. When it pleased God to lay this close to 
our hearts ; and indeed to show us that the interest of His People 
was grown cheap, " that it was" not at all laid to heart, but that 
if things came to real competition, His Cause, even among them- 
selves, would also in every point go to the ground : indeed this 
did add more considerations to us, That there was a duty incum- 
bent upon us, " even upon us." And — I speak here, in the 
presence of some that were at the closure of our consultations, 
and as before the Lord — the thinking of an act of violence was to 
us worse than any battle that ever we were in, or that could be, to 
the utmost hazard of our lives : so willing wore we, even very 
tender and desirous if possible that these men might quit their 
places with honor. 

I am the longer upon this ; because it hath been in our own 
hearts and consciences, justifying us, and hath never been yet 
thoroughly imparted to any ; and we had rather begin with you 
than have done it before — and do think indeed that this Transac- 
tion is more proper for a verbal communication than to have it put 
into writing. I doubt he whose pen is most gentle in England 
would, in recording that, have been tempted, whether he would 01 
no, to dip it deep in anger and wrath. But affairs being at this pos- 
ture ; we seeing plainly, even in some critical cases, that the Cause 
of the People of God was a despised thing; — truly we did believe 
then that the hands of other men " than these" must be the hands 
to be used for the work. And we thought then, it was very high 
time to look about us, and to be sensible of our duty. 



i 12 APPENDIX. 

If, I say, I should take up your time to tell you what instances 
we have to satisfy our judgments and consciences, That these are 
not vain imaginations, nor things fictitious, but which fell within 
the compass of our own certain knowledge, it would bring me, 1 
say, to what I would avoid, to rake into these things too much. 
Only this. If anybody was in competition for any place of real 
and signal trust, " if any really public interest was at stake in that 
Parliament," how hard and difficult a matter was it to get anything 
carried without making parties — without practices indeed un- 
worthy of a Parliament! When things must be carried so in a 
Supreme Authority, indeed I think it is not as it ought to be, to 
say no worse ! Then when we came to other trials, as in that 
case of Wales, " of establishing a Preaching Ministry in Wales," 
which, I must confess for my own part, I set myself upon — if I 
should relate what discountenance that business of the poor Peo- 
ple of God there had (who had men watching over them like so 
many wolves, ready to catch the lambs so soon as they were 
brought forth into the world) ; how signally that Business was 
trodden under foot " in Parliament," to the discountenancing of the 
Honest People, and the countenancing of the Malignant Party, of 
this Commonwealth — ! I need but say it was so. For many of 
you know, and by sad experience have felt it to be so. And 
somebody I hope will, at leisure, better impart to you the state of 
that Business " of Wales ;" which really to myself and Officers, 
was as plain a trial of their spirits, " the Parliament's spirits," as 
anything— it being known to many of us that God had kindled a 
seed there indeed hardly to be paralleled since the Primitive Time. 

I would these had been all the instances we had ! Finding, 
"however," which way the spirits of men went, finding that good 
was never intended to the People of God — 1 mean when I say the 
People of God, I mean the large comprehension of them, under the 
several forms of Godliness in this Nation ; — finding, I say, that all 
tenderness was forgotten to the Good People (though it was by 
their hands and their means, under the blessing of God, that those 
sat where they did) — we thought this a very bad requital ! I will 
not say, they were come to an utter inability of working Reforma- 
tion — though I might say so in regard to one thing: the Re- 
formation of the Law, so much groaned under in the posture it 
now is in. That was a thing we had many good words 
spoken for; but we know that many months together were not 
enough for the settling of one word, " Incumbrances — I say, find- 
ing that this was the spirit and complexion of men — although these 
were faults for which no man should lift up his hand against the 
Superior Magistrate ; not simply for these faults and failings — yet 
when we saw that this " New Representative of theirs" was 
meant tc perpetuate men of such spirits ; nay, when we had it from 
their own mouths, That they could not endure to hear of the Dis« 



APPENDIX. 413 

solution of this Parliament: we thought this an hign breach of 
trust. If they had been a Parliament never violence was upon, 
sitting as free and clear as any in former ages, it was thought, this, 
to be a breach of trust, such as a greater could not be. 

And that we might not be in doubt about these matters: having 
had that Conference among ourselves which I gave you an account 
of, we did desire one more — and indeed it was the night before 
the Dissolution ; it had been desired two or three nights before : 
we did desire that we might speak wilh some of the principal 
persons of the House. That we might with ingenuity open our 
hearts to them ; that we might either be convinced of the certainty 
of their intentions ; or else that they would be pleased to hear our 
expedients to prevent these inconveniences. And indeed we could 
not attain our desire till the night before the Dissolution. There 
is a touch of this in our Declaration. As I said before, at that 
time we had often desired it, and at that time we obtained it : 
where about Twenty of them were, none of the least in considera- 
tion for their interest and ability ; with whom we desired some 
discourse upon these things and had it. And it pleased these 
Gentlemen, who are here, the Officers of the Army, to desire me to 
offer their sense for them, which I did, and it was shortly thus: 
We told them " the reason of our desire to wait upon them now 
was, that we might know from them, What security lay in their 
manner of proceeding, so hastened, for a New Representative; 
wherein they had made a few qualifications, such as they were: 
and How the whole business would, " in actual practice," be exe- 
cuted : Of which we had as. yet no account ; and yet we had our 
interest, our lives, estates and families therein concerned : and, we 
thought likewise, the Honest People had interest in us: iC How all 
this was to be V That so, if it did seem they meant to appear in 
such honest and just ways as might be security to the Honest In- 
terest, we might therein acquiesce : or else that they would hear 
what we had to offer." Indeed, when this desire was made, the 
answer was, "That nothing would do good for this Nation but the 
continuance of this Parliament !" We wondered we should have 
such a return. We said little to that: but seeing they would not 
give us satisfaction that their ways were honorable and just, we 
craved their leave to make our objections. We then told them, 
That the way they were going in would be impracticable. " That" 
we could not tell how to send out an Act, with such qualifications 
as to be a rule for electing and for being elected, Until we first knew 
who the persons were that should be admitted to elect. And 
above all, Whether any of the qualifications reached "so far as to 
include" the Presbyterian Party. And we were bold to tell them, 
That none of that judgment who had deserted this Cause and In- 
terest should have any power therein. We did think we should 
1 iofess it, That we had as good deliver up our Cause into the 



i 14 A PPEPfDIX. 

han Is of any as into the hands of those who had desertel us, d» 
who were as neuters ! For it's one thing to love a brother, to beal 
with and love a person of different judgment in matters of religion; 
and another thing to have anybody so far set in the saddle on that 
account, as to have all the rest of his brethren at mercy. 

Truly, Gentlemen, having this discourse concerning the imprac- 
ticableness of the thing, the "bringing-in of neuters, and such as had 
deserted this Cause, whom we very well knew ; objecting like- 
wise how dangerous it would be by drawing concourses of people 
in the several Counties (every person that was within the qualifi- 
cation or without) ; and how it did fall obvious to us that the 
power would come into the hands of men who had very little 
affection to this Cause : the answer again was made, and that by 
very eminent persons, " That nothing would save the Nation but 
the continuance of this Parliament. 1 ' This being so, we humbly 
proposed — since neither our counsels, our objections to their way 
of proceeding, nor their answers to justify that, did give us satis 
faction ; nor did we think they ever intended to give us any, 
which indeed some of them have since declared " to be the fact" — 
we proposed to them, I say, our expedient; which was indeed 
this: That the Government of the Nation being in such a condition 
as we saw, and things " being" under so much ill sense abroad, 
and likely to end in confusion " if we so proceeded" — we desired 
they would devolve the trust over to some Well-affected Men. 
such as had an interest in the Nation, and were known to be of 
good affection to the Commonwealth. Which, we told them, was 
no new thing when this land wasiinderthe like hurleyburlies. 
And we had been laboring to get precedents " out of His- 
tory" to convince them of it ; and it was confessed by them it had 
been no new thing. This expedient we offered out of the deep 
sense we had of the Cause of Christ ; and were answered so as [ 
told yon, That nothing w^ould save this Nation but the continu- 
ance of that Parliament. " The continuance :" they would not 
" be brought to" to say the perpetuating of it, at this tune ; yet we 
found their endeavors did directly tend that way ; they gave us 
this answer, " That the thing we offered was of a very high nature 
and of tender consideration : How would money be raised ?" — and 
made some other objections. We told them ; ' how ;" and that we 
here offered an expedient five times better than that " of theirs," 
for which no reason was given, nor we thought could be given : 
and desired them that they would lay things seriously to heart! 
They told us, They would take time for the considerations of these 
things till to-morrow ; they would sleep upon them, and consult 
some friends: "some friends" — though, as I said, there were 
about Twenty-three "of them here," and not above Fifty-three in 
the House. And at parting, two or three of the chief of them, one 
of the chief, and two or three more, did tell us, That they would 



APPENDIX. 445 

endeavor to suspeni farther proceedings about their Bill for a New 

Representative until they had another conference with us. And 
upon this we had great satisfaction ; and had hope, if our expe- 
dient could receive a loving debate, that the next day we should 
have some such issue thereof as v^ould give satisfaction to all. 
And herewith they went away, "it" being late at night. 

The next morning, we considering how to order what we had 
farther to offer to them in the evening, word was brought us that 
the House was proceeding with all speed upon the New Repre- 
sentative ! We could not believe it, that such persons would be so 
unworthy ; we remained there till a second and a third messenger 
came, with tidings, That the House was really upon that business, 
and had brought it near to the issue — and with that height as was 
never before exercised: leaving out all things relating to the due 
exercise of the qualifications (which had appeared all along " in it 
till now") : and "meaning ,r as we heard, to pass it only on paper, 
without engrossing, for t i« quicker despatch of it. — Thus, as we 
apprehend, would the Liberties of the Nation have been thrown 
away into the hands of those who had never fought for it. And 
upon this we thought it our duty not to suffer it. And upon this 
the House was dissolved, even when the Speaker was going to put 
the last question. 

I have too much troubled you with this: but we have made this 
relation that you might know that what hath been done in the Dis» 
solution of the Parliament was as necessary to be done as the 
preservation of this Cause. And the necessity which led us to da 
that, hath brought us to this " present" issue, Of exercising ar. 
extraordinary way and course to draw You together " here j" upon 
this account, that you are men who know the Lord, and have made 
observations of His marvellous Dispensations; and may be trusted, 
as far as men may be trusted, with this Cause. 

It remains now for me to acquaint you "a little" farther with 
what relates to your taking upon you this great Business. "Rut 
indeed" that is contained in the Paper here in my hand, which 
will be offered presently to you to read. But having done that 
we have done upon such ground of necessity as we have " now" 
declared, which was not a feigned necessity but a real — "it did 
behoove us," to the end we might manifest to the world the single- 
ness of our hearts and our integrity who did these things, Not to 
grasp at the power ourselves, or keep it in military hands, no not 
lor a day ; but, as far as God enabled us with strength and ability, 
10 put it into the hands of Proper Persons that might be called 
from the several parts of the Nation. This necessity; and I hope 
we may say for ourselves, this integrity of concluding to divest the 
Sword of all power in the Civil Administration — hath been that 
that hath moved us to put You to this trouble "of coming hither •* 



446 APPENDIX. 

and having done that, truly we think we cannot, with the dis- 
charge of our own consciences, but offer somewhat to you on thr 
devolving of the burden on our shoulders. It hath been the prac 
tice of others who have, voluntarily and out of a sense of duty 
divested themselves, and devolved the Government into new 
hands ; I say, it hath been the practice of those that have done so 
it hath been practiced, and is very consonant to reason, To la\ 
"down," together with their Authority, some Charge "how to 
employ it" (as we hope we have done), and to press the duty "ol 
employing it well :" concerning which we have a word or two tr 
offer you. 



r ^? - V* 



0' c 



% % % 























-^ 



tf> 



^> 






^ ^ 






^ 'V 






# N 












^ 



•\ 












^0" 



: - f ,s. <$ 



'*»<$ 



v * 



























3 oS -f, 



IV '*. 









: ■: 















u 






H X*> 















,0* v 






.* <^ 









o^ ^ 









V'* 



•% 

4 ^ 






0^ ^ . 



o 






fcfc. 



,>• 



r 



^ 









V 







: «> 






i 










s- 














